I dragged myself out of a cozy bed of nightmares once again. I pulled my strawberry blonde hair back out of my face and tucked it behind my ears. I walked into my bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. The same girl with stormy blue eyes and an olive complexion glared back at me, but the image was different. I was a monster. But that wasn't the true me. After enduring the normal challenges of the morning, like overcoming suicidal thoughts, ultimately flushing the pain killers down the toilet, and showering, I'm off to school. My father is a teacher so I receive a ride to and from school in his Pickup. Surprisingly school makes up the best 7 hours of my day. I'm the popular girl, and do not break the stereotype in any way. I'm with a new boy daily, do my makeup in class instead of doing my work, and usually harass three ugly girls into crying by lunch. It's amazing the powers you control when you're beautiful. Because of my grades I was strongly encouraged to attend tutoring sessions. Of course, when that failed, the school gave up on me. My father never did, but then again, he is my father. There was also one person who never gave up. No matter how much I struggled, he never gave up. He was calm, considerate, and attractive . Every Friday after school we would meet up and he would 'tutor' me. Really, I pleasured him. In return, he would supply me with the necessary work to pass my classes. And today was Friday. But no matter how attractive he is, I could never enjoy myself. Maybe it's because I knew that if I didn't perform to expectations, the end result would be summer school. No teenager, especially the sure-shot prom queen, could ever live that down. So I drag myself home and make dinner. The boy and I chat about our day while we eat, and from there proceed to the bedroom. And that is how, every Saturday morning, I drag myself out of my Father's bed. ----- Very short