When this girl awakes she heads to the full length mirror at the other end of her room. When doing so she passes her sowing machine, a machine most likely to be used tonight, after homework, quietly building up her dream and hopefully future career as designer. She stares at herself and the girl who stares back is not very tall, 5" 4 maybe, she's not sure, she's never bothered with maths or measuring, but she's smart, street smart, she knows how things work, the deepest darkest secrets that whisper through her small California based town. She knows everything, sees all and is one person who you should not lie to, for if you do, she'll find out and get you.
The girl in the mirror had short, messy brown hair, with a small tint of blond from where she had died it last summer. She had light green eyes, not that kind of snotty color, but a soft grass green. Her lips, pale, she bites them making them turn red, a process she'd go through daily. Her eyebrows, she felt across them, evening them, making them look......... sophisticated? posh? All she knew is that they looked good! Her long legs ached from standing there, so she pulls her pink, Yes Pink!, chair over so she can sit down. She sits down but not on the chair, on her cat, Bonnie. Silly Bonnie, hid under the clothes, sleeping. She shoos Bonnie away. The cat hisses and does not move. The girl will have to stand, for now.
She checks her neck, gently massaging it. Smells her breath........ BLEEEECHHH!! Morning breath, her mouth needs a cleaning. She laughs thinking of that dreadful date with Mike and his ............ Well we won't stray from the subject! ;D.
She's annoyed with herself, its been three minutes and she's been there staring at herself, her mother would be calling her soon.
She throws on one of her three pairs of Abercrombie Jeans, red Chanel sign top, ah Coco her idol, and her converse. She thinks "Whatever would I do without my converse!". She loosly ties her hair in a bun, a style she much prefers, looks at herself one last time and walks out the door of her bedroom.
When downstairs, she hears Bon Jovi music, a favourite of her mothers, blaring from the kitchen! She walks in, with her ipod on and earplugs in, she is listening to Nicki Minaj, has her breakfast and walks out the frontdoor of her two storey house and outside into the fresh Californian sun.
She knows now, as she always has......she is a contender....a fighter....a lover.....a writer....a designer.....a friend..... She is Kate Golden.