Snippet of something that might not become more than this
She was awake, but she didn't open her eyes. It was morning, and she was supposed to get up in five minutes. She just lay there for a moment, noticing the sensation of bed sheets against her skin, the sound of the fan upstairs, and the birds chirping outside her window.
She still slept in her dads old t-shirts that was way too big for her. They were much softer than all her pajamas, but not pretty. She didn't care, no one were going to see her in them anyway. She turned over so that her forehead rested against the wall, and she pulled her knees up against the wall as well. She opened her eyes slowly, bit by bit,and let them get used to the light streaming in her window.It looked like it was going to be another overcast day.
She turned on her back, and her hair lay like a fan on her pillow, her hand over the edge of the bed. She really didn't want to get up. She wanted to stay here forever, and fantasize about faraway places, and made-up people. If she got up, the world would meet her with endless chores and responsobilities. She liked being grown up and all, but sometimes it would be nice to be little again, and have no other worries than who got to play with which toy.
She sighed and swung her feel over the edge of the bed as well. She sat up, feeling her back crack, almost a crispy sound. She looked at the black dreamcatcher hanging on the wall. It had black volcanoe rock pearls,and light purple feathers hanging from it. She had made it herself, on a boring, overcast day last summer. Today would probably also be a boring day. She looked at her bookshelves, filled with books in all sizes and colours. She even had an old edition of Shakespeare's collected works. It was she most beautiful book she owned. It smelled like an old bookstore, and the paged were yellowed from time. She sighed again, and stretched. "Here we go."