Normal

For Sunday Scribblings.

Normal.
Her hair, the perfect shade of mud. Her eyes, pools of brown. Her skin, fair, but not too fair.
Everything she was, everything she did, planned perfectly in an attempt an normality.
She was always punctual, always. Throughout her school life, she was an average student, always getting 89s or 90s, never a point higher, nor a point lower. She enjoyed the same guys as everyone else, was obsessed with Twilight, had had her heart broken a few times, had done her chores.
All in an attempt to hide herself, to never let anyone see the real her.
Her hair, a fluffy white streaked with red. Her eyes, one blue, one green. Her tanned skin actually a ghostly color. Always wanting to be late, never succeeding. Wanting to be a better student, but confined by her fears. Hating the same guys that her friends loved, thinking that Twilight was just about the worst movie she had ever seen. Had hated letting her heart get broken, knowing she could protect herself. Forced herself to do chores so no one would ever know what a slob she was.
And now she's sitting on her bed, tears slipping down her cheeks, wondering when her life started to crash around her ears.

(Normal's taking over your life, hon.)

The Mysterious Life and Times?

I know what you're thinking.
"The Mysterious Life and Times of what?" you'll wonder.
I wish I could say that the answer will blow your minds right out of your head. Wish I could say that there is a mastermind behind the title, something that I ought to copyright and claim as mine. Wish I could say that the owner of the life and times was completely mysterious.
But she is not. Nay, she is merely someone who enjoys stringing words as if they were beads onto a string, and who dreams that a mystery will someday be her own.
I'll get into all that later. Maybe. If I feel like it. We'll see.
Sweet daydreams!