In a bustling world filled with beautiful people and talent around every corner, everyone tries hard to find their place in society, looking desperately for a place that feels right. Everyone wants to know that they are wanted and appreciated, that their talents are just the right fit for some place. But, for some people, finding that fit seems almost impossible, so impossible that they just give up hope and submit to a routine of mediocrity and apathy. That, at least, seemed to be the case for Cecilia.
Ever since Cecilia was a little girl, she felt like an outsider shivering as she stood on a cold street and peeking in through the fogged windows of a cozy home. She was never as fast as the other kids on the busy school playground, so was always at the end of the line to play on the swing set. She was always clumsy, missing soccer balls and baseballs during games, and because of it, was always one of the last people picked to be on teams. She got so nervous when she took tests that she always ended up getting less-than-stellar grades, even on tests she was so sure she could ace. Even in her social life, she tried hard to seem as appealing and interesting as she could be, but for some reason, she never felt like she knew the right thing to say or do. Her looks certainly didn't set her apart from the crowd either. She had drab shoulder-length brown hair and dull brown eyes. Her face was round and uninteresting. No matter how hard she tried, things just seemed to be so much more difficult for her than for other girls. Other girls were so pretty, thin, popular, athletic, and smart, but she was Cecilia. A nobody. A background character. Nothing special.
Each and every day, her alarm went off at 5:30 AM. Every day, she turned off her alarm, and remained in bed, staring up at her ceiling, trying to convince herself that today would be better, that today things would be great. At 5:45 AM, she finally rolled out of bed, the crickets still chirping, and the sun still yet to rise. She slowly slunk into the bathroom, where, every morning, before school, Cecilia looked at herself in the mirror, pinching her face, earnestly wishing that she could just, for one day, look prettier than she was. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, applied her acne medication, and put her contacts in. At 6:00 AM, she would flip her hair this way and that way, applying gel and mousse to get her hair to look like a prettier girl's so that maybe she would be noticed by a cute boy or something. Her father, every morning at 6:15 AM would notice that she is still in the bathroom and would call to her "Cecilia! Hurry up! You haven't eaten breakfast and you have a bus to catch!" And after every morning reminder, she would grumble, dissatisfied with her hair, to go change for school, always dissatisfied with her clothes and how they looked on her, as her father continued to call to her to hurry her up.
Finally, she would come downstairs with barely enough time to choke down her breakfast before the bus honked for her to come running. Every morning she gave her dad a hug goodbye, grabbed her book bag, slipped on her shoes and ran to the honking school bus, and every morning she sat next to her best friend, who always saved her a seat on the crowded school bus. A dull, unchanging routine.
This morning, however, would be different. The night before, there was an unexpected, yet brief storm that swept through the city, causing a tree to fall onto some power lines, the power lines that supplied Cecilia's neighborhood with electricity. As she still lay in bed, sleeping, dreaming about a better life somewhere far away, her alarm clock blipped off. She comfortably snoozed away, unaware that her boring routine was about to be shaken up quite unexpectedly.
Her dreams were pleasant; she was a beautiful and widely adored queen, worshipped and loved by all. She was surrounded by gold statues, delicately prepared foods, and handsome suitors. Just as she was about to choose between the handsome Italian and the stunning Swede, she heard a loud sound. She shot up in bed, looked at her clock, only to find it had been turned off. "What's going on?" she wondered. She heard the bus honk. "Oh my God!" she yelled as she shot up, grabbing a pair of jeans off her floor and thrusting them on. She ran downstairs, grabbed her bag, slipped her shoes on, and ran out of the house, just before the bus drove off after waiting so long for her. The bus driver gave her a dirty look and grumbled something about a lazy brat under her breath. Cecilia, still dazed and sleepy, climbed aboard the bus, and looked for Carrie, her best friend. Carrie wasn't on the bus this morning, and the bus was as crowded as ever. "Where do all these kids come from?" she thought as she looked for an empty seat.
As she made her way down the bus aisle, kids glanced at her then quickly looked away. She heard some snickering and looked over to see the two blonde cheerleaders who rode her bus glancing at her, then back to each other as they whispered and laughed. She wasn't sure why everyone was acting so strangely this morning; she had never done anything bad or mean to anyone. But the snickers continued anyway, and it made her feel awful, embarrassed, and more desperate to find a seat quickly. After what seemed like an eternity, she found an empty seat next to one mean looking guy.
He was sporting a Mohawk, wearing a camouflage jacket and bondage pants. He had a tattoo on the back of his neck peeking just above the back of his lapel, ear gauges, eyebrow piercings, and a number of scars on his face. He was staring intently out of the window, looking…mean. "It can't be too horrible sitting next to him for just a little while… I don't think he would kill me… I think… I hope…" Cecilia thought to herself. As she stood, shaking and praying for her life, she cleared her throat, "Um, excuse me…" she muttered, "do you mind if I sit here?" The Mohawk guy turned, almost glaring at her with a threateningly cold stare. He raised an eyebrow, and studiously gazed at Cecilia, looking up and down her body with a hideously intent expression on his face.
He smirked, nodded, and, without looking up at her face said, "Yeah, you can sit here, awright."
The two cheerleaders, who had been watching the whole scene unfold, broke out into obnoxious laughter. Cecilia, now thinking that she would have been better off if the punk had tried to stab her to death, drooped into the seat next to the guy, who was still lustfully studying her body. She turned so red that she thought she would pass out from sheer humiliation. She placed her hands on her knees to keep them as far away from the punk as was physically possible and stared at her lap, trying very hard to hide her red face.
The punk leaned over to her and whispered in her ear, "I hafta say, I like the do'."
She looked at him strangely, thinking to herself "What do'?" She reached up to touch her hair and realized that, in her rush to leave, she didn't brush her hair or do anything. She didn't even have a mirror to see what she looked like. Her stomach churned as she realized how ridiculous she must look to everyone on the bus. And at that rate, she couldn't see a damned thing either. She forgot her contacts and didn't even grab the glasses from her bedside table either! Fortunately, she was always prepared and kept some basic toiletries in her bag. She grabbed her bag to get her spare hairbrush and her emergency glasses only to discover she had forgotten to zip the bag closed and that some of the things had fallen out of her bag. She was so upset she could just cry. She quickly pulled her fingers through her hair, trying desperately to get the many tangles out of her hair. She hadn't even brushed her teeth. She squirmed in her chair, uncomfortable from looking and feeling like such a mess and from the overly friendly attention she was getting from the scarred delinquent next to her. She just wanted to jump off the bus, run home, and shove her big tangled head under a pillow. But she couldn't now; she would be forced to spend her day looking like a sloppy bum around a few hundred overly judgmental fellow teenagers.
The bus pulled up in front of the school, where many other kids were getting off the bus, happily chatting and laughing as they all strolled into the school for a new school day. Before the bus had even come to a complete stop, Cecilia leapt from her seat and jolted to the front of the bus before any others had even gotten the chance to stand up. She needed to get off that bus and fast. She ran into the building, all the while, running her fingers through her hair and staring at the floor. Her friends had already gotten to school and were standing near their lockers, which were all near Cecilia's. Her friends, Maggie, Addy, and Carrie stood, chatting and laughing with each other.
"Cecilia!" Addy called out to her, "Hey!"
The other two turned around, and as Cecilia approached, the three just stared in stunned silence. Cecilia could just feel the awkward tension. She knew how bad she looked. She just wanted to die.
"Cecilia…what…happened?" Maggie asked carefully, reaching out to touch the tangled mess that was Cecilia's head.
"Well… I don't know what happened… my alarm…" Cecilia started.
"Oh. You mean your alarm was off. Mine too. I missed the bus this morning. My mom had to drive me here." Carrie quickly interrupted.
"Yeah… so I had to run out… I didn't get a chance to like… you know…" Cecilia muttered, drooping her eyes to the floor as they began to water.
"Hey, no problem, here you can use my hairbrush real fast to fix that… uh… that mess before class starts." Addy said, reaching into her purse and pulled out her hairbrush.
Cecilia grabbed it from her and quickly brushed out all of the tangles before anyone else could walk by and see her hair… especially him. Her actions were just in time too.