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I'm 16 and I've been writing since 4th grade and currently working on a book on WattPad.

Message to Readers

Just a quick story I whipped up, based on my thoughts at 11:43pm. (Note: Never owned makeup, or even wore it unless it was a school dance.)

Right There

July 23, 2018


She pursed her lips.
    The light from the mirror gleamed on her freshly washed chocolate face. A bottle of contour felt smooth in her hand, her white desk covered in pencil marks and permanent marker. On top of that, was some highlighter palettes, dark lipsticks and glosses. All of this would suffice.
    Her best friend bursts through the door, seeing her tears stains dried.  She froze with the contour sponge barely to her face. Her best friend walked up to her, ignoring the scattered journals and mythological books, and then hugged her. Her eyes started their waterworks. Tears flowed to her cheeks again with relief this time. She knew this wasn't her.
    The makeup wasn't even hers. This was her older sister's. But she was glad that he was there, her best friend, her boyfriend. Though she was also glad that one item was missing from her desk. 
    The mascara. 
    It was right there in the trash can because: her eyes were the window to her own soul.



See History
  • July 23, 2018 - 10:47pm (Now Viewing)

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