I woke up, my cheek pressed against my soaked pillow. Seems like I had been crying in my sleep again. From what I’m saying, it’s like I’m some crazy, depressed tenth grader that doesn’t think about anything else than my suppressed memories.

WRONG . I have lots of fun. I got up and changed into my school uniform. I yawned and performed my daily battle with my hair. When it settled into something called acceptable, I tied my hair into a braid (my hair’s really long) and went downstairs for breakfast.

“Morning,” I said rubbing at my eyes. I sat down at the table and attacked a plate of scrambled eggs, buttered toast, a slab of ham and some grapes. Then I drank some orange juice and laid back.

“How can you eat so much?” Kazuma gaped at me. I’m thin-maybe too thin for my age, but my eating doesn’t reflect my body. And I’m extremely fit.

“I need it!” I simply remarked, and shrugged. I took my bag.
“Well, then, I’m off to school!”

“See you later, Haine!” Kazuma was cleaning up the kitchen as I got up my bike.