She’s Gone Country
My life
I fade in and out of sleep, my phone’s ringtone mixing in with my dreams. I flip onto my back, sweat dripping incessantly down every part of me. Apparently my phone has been ruining my sleep for longer than I thought. I let out a stressed breath, picking up my phone. I click decline even before checking who was calling.
That’s what I thought. Seventeen missed calls from mom. Wow, she’s more talented than I thought, ruining my day even before it can get the chance to begin.
I can hardly let out a breath before it starts ringing again. I slam my jaw shut, grinding my teeth into powder. I inhale and exhale multiple times before bringing my phone to my ear.
“What,” I say, through gritted teeth.
I roll my eyes, my jaw clenching and unclenching.
“I have called you seventeen times! What in the world have you been doing?!” She shrieks, her voice raspy and stressed.
I scratch my forehead, probably leaving scars. “Oh I don’t know, probably what most people do in the morning.” I say with fake innocence. “Umm, maybe, SLEEPING!” I can’t help but yell.
“Paisley,” she says, her voice weary. I can just imagine her rubbing her temples. “Listen, something extremely unexpected happened and I need you to come over right away, alright?”
I let out a long sigh, tapping my lengthy fingernails against my nightstand. “Yeah, alright,” I say in a breath.
“Thank you.” She says, relief dominating her tone.
I hang up, pressing my lips together. Something unexpected... So, not good? I let out an annoyed laugh. Her cook probably got sick and now she has to make her OWN meal. So tragic.
I pull my fluffy, white quilt off my legs and instantly shiver. “Don’t really see the point in moving out if your mom is gonna practically be there anyway,” I mumble to myself as I pull my slippers over my feet.
Standing up, I run a hand through my hair, panic already setting in on how I’m going to get my makeup and hair ready in time.
I tiptoe to my bathroom and begin spraying my platinum blonde hair to hold in the volume. I put on an unusually minimum amount of makeup, but making sure to atleast cover up my freckles. My lips are most definitely big enough to do without lipstick for once, so I skip that step. I push a diamond into my nose hole and run to my closet. Everything in my wardrobe is either wine red or royal purple to bring out my pistachio green eyes. I choose a purple blouse with white skinny jeans. Shoving off my slippers, I replace them with a pair of black heels.
I walk to my dresser and slide my purse off the top. Apparently there was something underneath because the object falls and shatters. I let out a small growl and squat down to see what it was. Tears prick my eyes when I realize... My only picture of my dad and I. It was taken right before he left. We were only three and twenty one here. I rub my thumb across the shattered glass, a tear escapes my eye and lands on the broken picture frame. I quickly sweep them away and stand to my feet. I’ll finish cleaning it later.
I arrive at moms huge, white mansion about ten minutes later.
I hear the tell tale sound of my heels against the pavement until I reach her front door. Pulling the door open, my eyes fall on mom immediately as she studies a letter in her hands. Her eyes glazed over on the piece of paper...
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