Katrina RooseveltMature


I kicked a stone all the way to the bus-stop today. I suppose I'm a tad on the depressed side. Sleep would've helped. But I'm one of those people who's cursed with the inability to fall asleep when they're tired. Rather, I thrash about and make myself even more exhausted, and yet my brain works feverishly and I can feel the blood beating at my temples. Enough about that. Just a bit of sleep, though. It would be nice.

Well Laura wasn't exactly depressed. She ran all the way to the bus-stop, and kept grinning at people. I'm jealous. I don't have the energy to smile today. It would be nice to get home, in about eight hours or so. Stupid school. Can't they call it off, just for one day?

To put me in context, I'm Katrina Roosevelt. I'm not a very interesting person. I have mid-brown hair that looks soft if I spend fifteen minutes on it with a hairdryer every morning, and coarse if I spend five minutes. My eyes are blue, and I'm very slim, perhaps the best things about my appearance. But I'm not tall, because I grew early, and was lanky in my early years at secondary school, and now I can be considered fairly short. But I suppose appearance isn't everything. The guys I've fancied all look utterly different, and none of them very handsome, but it didn't stop me fancying them.

I don't have very many friends, but I know the friends I have are the most faithful friends I could ever have. I don't have very many guy-mates, because I'm shy with guys, but the ones I have I can talk to feeling natural and open, which feels good. It feels safe to have some sane and (more-or-less) mature guy-friends.

My teachers inform me that I come across as a colourless individual, but I know it's not so. I think so many things. But I don't have command of speech very easily. And I have no confidence. My mum wants me to work in the family store, and my dad wants me to go on the stage (goodness knows why). And all I want to do is to be quiet and unnoticed at home, and play tennis and bridge in the evenings, and practise my guitar, and go running round the lanes every Wednesday night.

And get some sleep.

I was so tired this morning. I kept focussing on things I didn't care about. Like how many bracelets Jenna had on today, or how the bus-driver had a beard. And I couldn't help wondering why Laura was so happy today. Not that it was any of my business.

I slept all through geography, gained a detention and stayed at school an extra hour, missed the bus and had to walk home. Didn't get in till six today. Next job: collapse on my bed.

The End

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