A day in the life of one of the planet's 6 billion or so human beings.

Stella responded to the dramatically loud and childishly elongated knock on her door with an impulsive throwing of her nearby shoe in the door's direction.

"Wakey wakey!" said a sarcastic, aged voice from the other side. But Stella was already awake, she had been awake all night, again. Sitting up, and not being able to relax, constantly thinking about why her life felt like a string of inconvinient struggles. This unhealthy habit gave Stella a fixed expression of tiredness, which came across as indifference. Even her freinds couldnt tell when she was in a good mood.

Another stupidly loud knock on the door made Stella sit up out of bed, her raven-black hair sticking out in procarious directions.

"Get up now Stella, you're not making me late again!" said the voice. Stella blinked. Upright on her single bed, in her pajamas, she wished that the voice was of an older sister, or a distant relative she hardly knew that was staying at her house. But the voice belonged Stella's mother; a particularly irritable and paranoid woman whose "hard" exterior came across as truly scary sometimes.

"Im up mum!" Stella hastily replied, with a subtly bitter tone, "No need to remind me!" she twisted and let her long feminine legs droop over the bed, whilst she proceeded to push her arms to the ceiling in an almost provocative stretch. Her face cutely scrunched up as she did so, then her arms lazily dropped either side of her and she fell into her trademark hunch.

the sound of her mother's heavy footsteps traversing the stairs directly outside Stella's door could be heard whilst she got up and pulled some knickers up to her shapely hips. She then tip-toed across the mine-field of her bedroom floor towards the door. Memories of last night's arguements flooded back to her as she turned the handle.

"What's this?!?"

"It's a letter from Barnaby's School"

"I can see that Stella, what's this about you failing Music Tech??"

"No mum, I'm just having to re-do some coursework from last year"

"Honestly Stella, its almost like you WANT to fail"

She plodded down the stairs and ate her breakfast opposite her mother at the table. Stella was extremely tempted to say something about the tremdously loud sipping noise her mother made whenever her thin lips met the cup of tea. But after last night she thought it best to not risk upsetting her mother. Things had always been difficult between the two of them; Stella's father having abandoned them before Stella was even born. And now her mother was laughably overprotective, and had extremly high expectations of the only child.

But it wasn't always like this; Stella and her mother were naturally very close due to having only each other. But it was in recent years that the two of them had grown distant. Stella's social life was becoming more interactive, and the child that lived deep (but not so deep) inside her mother screamed and cried about the two of them growing distant. Reacting in the only way she could, Stella's mother decidely became less and less involved with her daughter's life, and almost spiteful and skeptical whenever Stella wanted to spend any time with her.

This strange circumstance meant that the two argued almost every week, and the damages were visible. Stella's mother was a pale and tired looking indiviual, with permanent bags under both her eyes. Her hair was like a witches; long and dark and straw like, and the woman was unfortunatly the same height as her daughter.

While Stella made her way back upstairs after finishing her breakfast, her mother maintained eye contact long after Stella's head had dissapeared beyond the banister. And Stella felt the suspicious eyes scan her, letting out a

The End

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