When she woke up this morning, she hadn’t felt this depressed in the past eight months. She looked at herself in her bathroom mirror, her hair ruffled and eyes puffy, and thought – why am I even alive?
She stared at her rugged self for a long time, her tooth brush idly hanging from one corner of her mouth. I’m ugly, I’m useless, I’m clumsy – a similar string of thoughts ran through her head. As soon as Kagome gingerly removed the slick wet toothbrush from her mouth, it instantly curled into a small pout and little droplets of tears ran down her cheeks.
Her lips quivered as she tried to stop herself from crying. She couldn’t understand it; nothing at all. The dream she had last night after she dozed off gave her a little something to worry about. The dream was a bad omen, she feared. Her grandpa always said how dreams were a premonition, a little glimpse of what was about to come.
She, as per usual, never cared about these things. Although unknowingly, she had kept everything her grandpa told her etched into her mind.
The tears stopped finally. Never once side-stepping from her position, she remained rooted right at the sink, staring into her tear stained, red and pathetic of a face.
Today was a special day. Today she would be going out on a date, for the first time in 8 months. So, why she was so pathetically depressed? She smiled slightly as she thought about her date, momentarily lifting her gaze of herself from the mirror.
How would he be? A gentleman? A total casual, cool guy? Or just some stuck up rich brat?
She chuckled slightly, remembering that he was anything but rich. Maybe the casual cool guy. Yes, she thought, that would be nice for a change. It would be better than him. Anything would be better than him.
She turned to look at herself again, and this time with a renewed perspective. She took a deep breath and crouched down to splash her face with the water that had been gushing out of the tap since forever. The thoughts in her head were too loud for her to hear anything else.
All the while, her mind raced with bitter-sweet memories.
She stepped out of her bathroom and quietly closed the door behind her. Grabbing the towel lying on her chair, she gently dabbed her face with it. Replacing the towel back, she looked around her room. Her eyes passed over her empty desk, then over the slightly open window that had a light morning breeze wafting through it, making the pink curtains dance a little as sunlight streamed through them; her eyes finally landed on her made up and on the clothes strewn neatly across it.
Her lips instinctively curled into a small, knowing smile. Her mother had been in here, made her bed, gently laid out her carefully ironed clothes and left her early morning coffee on the table beside her bed. She took off the ceramic lid off the cup as she picked it up. Steam immediately floated over the cup as she blew it out.
Maybe she could begin again today. Everyday’s a new day.