By Aimee-Leigh Adams
Grade 9
My life, the life of Leaura Williams, is pretty much one of the dull and unexciting life you could have ever imagined. Waking up each morning looking like I survived a tornado was no surprise to me. There are days when I actually care about how I Iook, but most days I don’t. It’s kind of funny though, because I have a career where most in my position would always look like they came out of a Vogue Magazine, but I don’t. I am a fashion designer that rarely wears her own clothes.
Finally, I decided to get up once I saw that it was past the crack of dawn. I slowly stretched out my forever aching muscles. Walking at the speed of a snail to the bathroom attached to my room, I first walked towards the basin to complete my routine of washing my face, brushing my teeth and washing it out with mouthwash. Today, brushing my teeth felt tiresome, but I knew I had to do it and once I finished my routine, I spit out the last remnants of mouthwash I had in my mouth. Turning around, I came face to face with the full-length mirror placed against the bathroom wall. My hair always had this curliness to it no matter how many times I straightened it. My hair always stood out because of its natural silverish shade that contrasted against my caramel coloured skin. People always complimented me for my looks, especially if you add my forest green eyes to the mix. So, you could say that I was pretty unique when it came to my looks.
My day went along smoothly. I stayed home and watched re-runs of things I missed while I was busy with the latest runway show we had. I kept a huge bowl of sour cream flavoured popcorn to satisfy my nibbling habits.
Like I said, everything was going fine, we, until I heard knocking. Like every sane person, I went to the front door and looked through the peephole to see that there was no one. Again, I heard the knocking, but it was louder this time and now I knew it wasn’t coming from the front door, rather from somewhere in my apartment. A strange feeling started bubbling inside of me, but I chose to ignore it.
Deciding that it was just my head playing tricks on me, I returned to the sofa. Just as I was about to get all comfortable once more, I heard it again and it was even louder. “What the hell?” I thought. Not long after, it happened again, but this time it was continuous. I was getting frustrated because I hate being disturbed and without thinking I stormed off towards the root of the problem.
I followed it all the way to my bedroom and when I opened the door… there was a door… in the middle of the room. Now I’m officially freaking out. Slowly, I walked towards the door and once I reached it, I saw that there was nothing surrounding it, it was just a door floating an inch in the air, in the middle of the room. My room.
The knocking continued and all I could do was stare at the intricately carved doorknob. I was more than just freaking out. I decided to open the door and my hands along with my body shook as my right hand made its way to the knob. Once I had a firm grip on the knob and I hadn’t erupted in flames yet, I decided to open the door.
What I saw, or rather, who I saw on the other side of that doorframe, nearly made my heart stop. It was him, the one I saw everyday as I made my way to Starbucks, the one with the sweet smile and the mischievous smirk, the one that I have never had enough courage or confidence to approach. He was standing before me in all his curly haired, chocolate eyed glory, just smiling at me.
I was just about to ask him about the strange way he chose to enter, but was silenced when he suddenly moved from the inside of the doorframe into my room. I stood rooted on my spot, wide eyed and breath uneven, staring at him, but not making eye contact. Gently, he lifted his somewhat large hand and cupped my red stained cheek. Slowly, he started soothingly rubbing his thumb in circular motions against my temple to calm me down, before he tucked a stray hair behind my ear and just then, after that small gesture, I melted into him without caring if I looked vulnerable or not. He moved his hand behind my neck, tilting my head up until I was staring straight into his obsidian eyes. He leaned down and I knew he was going to kiss me; all the signs lead to that.
I closed my eyes just as he got closer, but the kiss never came, instead I felt his breath near my ever-reddening ear. Then that voice whispered, the voice that has my knees buckling and my toes curling, the voice that I have fallen so hard for. In his all too familiar deep, sultry voice he whispered, “Wake up, Leaura.”
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