The morning light beams throw the the fabric dangling
from the window. I can hear my mum screaming at the
top of her lungs for breakfast, but I ignore it. I scramble
down the stairs to the bathroom “ i have to make a good
impression for the popular kids” I say to myself. I grab
one of the coloured tooth brushes aiming for mine the
blue one, my sister walks in on her phone like all teenagers
do but something makes her head rise with a shock on
her face like there was a spider on the wall but no, her
face turns from a shocking pale white to a flaming red as
powerful rage flys out her mouth aiming for me like I’ve
done something wrong, which i have. The tooth brush
she mumbles to me with a raging voice. I was using a tooth
brush but it was the wrong colour.
By Mazzlin
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