WOW. I did not look good in the mornings. I looked away from the mirror abruptly, and sat down in the chair by my desk, looking around my room. My room was a rectangular shape, both the shorter sides painted a bright green colour, the other two white. On one of the green walls, it said in white stick-on letters “Work, Rest, Play.” Underlined by pictures of my favourite books – also on that wall, was a full length mirror. The opposite wall, and one of the white walls, was completely covered in art work I had done, and other random yet interesting things I blu-tacked to the wall. The final wall was covered with posters of my favourite bands, (other posters were scattered around the other walls as well) and a huge window that overlooked the back garden.
My double bed sat in the corner of my room, with a green blanket over the top, and my teddies on top. (Yes. I’m probably too old for “teddies” what with being 15 this year and all. But I don’t care. I love them.)
The over-flowing wardrobe stood in the opposite corner, clothes leaking out of it. Next to the wardrobe, was a chest of drawers filled with… well… rubbish basically. And my tv sat on top of that.
The green lamp on my bedside cabinet was still glowing from where I’d fallen asleep and left it on. I got up out of the chair (which took way more effort than I was willing to put in, in the morning) and turned off the lamp, almost running smack bang in to my sister as I turned around, causing me to jump in surprise.
“Woah! Sky! You scared me!” I sat back down on my bed, and she jumped up next to me. She looked adorable in her school uniform, after all, she was only 4! Who should have to wear uniform at 4? Stupid school. Her long dark hair was covering her face. She had crossed her legs, and was fiddling with her hands in her lap. I pushed her hair behind her ear, and made her look at me. She looked… completely distraught?
“Sky? What’s wrong?” I stared at my sisters face, worried now. She sniffed. “Sky?” I repeated. She looked up at me, her face looked heartbroken. “What’s wrong, angel?” I asked her. She just kept on sniffing, and we sat there, in silence, until she climbed in to my lap, and began to cry deep, heartbroken sobs.
I didn’t say anything; just waited until the crying died down to sniffs again. When they did, it was silent for a while longer, until she finally looked up at me, and said in a quiet voice “magic died…” then she began to bawl again.