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pru1989

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  I guess another reson I love rain so much is because it signifies change in my life. I don't know what it is but every time it rains something dramatic happens, I don't know how one could describe it, maybe atmospheric changes?, or maybe just me consciously opening my mind and being more willing to accept something new.

  Well it was raining, a slow, continous release from the sky. It was also saturday, but the rain made it just that little bit more bearable. Inhaling slowly I rolled out of bed and walk the two steps across my room to the dresser.The reflection that stares back at me is always a surprise. There in the reflection of the glass two mauve, almost grey eyes stare back at me, they are so clear, yet so deep. My eyes intimidate even myself, I'm always afraid to look deeply into them, too scared at what I might see. The paleness of my skin is always surprising too, I spend hours apon hours outside in the sun thou no one would be able to tell. too top of my strange apperance I have blazing copper hair, long and sleak falling to a point near my lower back.

  After scrapping the hair off my face while securing it in a lose pony tail I pull on a jet black singlet and a pair of karke shorts. Stepping into the kitchen the usual scene fills my eyes, there at the table sits a sun kissed man with golden brown hair, his peircing blue eyes following my mother around the kitchen while she tries to find some thing to feed him for breakfast. Her black midnight hair is tossled and drapped over her fine shoulders, while her robin blue eyes are glazed and bloodshot searching aimlessly for something to eat. Her usual pale complexion appears to be tinted a fine shade of yellow, she does not look well.

  After watching for a couple of moments I step out of the shaddows and startled the man. His face saying it all she has not told him about me, I'm not surprised she never tells any one about me. She didn't even tell her own mother about me untill I was seven years all although they arn't close they talk to each other at least once a week. When my grandmother finally found out she came to see us, and after an hour she decided I was a worthless waste of space and left and that was the last time I saw her.

 " There are Cheerios in the top Cupboard and bacon in the fridge if your looking" I mutter at my mother

"No need for the attitude Grey" she snaps back

And with that I walk outside into the crisp rain. I never quite understood why people call me Grey My name is actually Laura Ashley Scotts. Over the years it has grown on me though, no body is sure what to expect of grey, with white they expect perfection, purity, calmness, and with black they expect bitterness, hate and death. With grey though no body holds any expectations at all, and that suited me well.