The harsh buzzer of the alarm on my phone trilled loudly, rousing me from my fitful dreams. I awoke suddenly, full of unease due to my lack of sleep. It had been a long week of insomnia and last-minute homework assignments so I wasn't feeling my best. It seemed like our teachers were pushing us even harder for our senior year, especially now that everyone was heading towards that college goal line. I jerked my head upwards as the alarm continued to play, slowly assessing where I was. It appeared that I had fallen asleep at the kitchen table yet again. The alarm had woken me mid-dream as the veil was slowly being lifted from my face, which was not a terrible place to end my slumber.

I quickly checked my phone notifications to find a few messages in my group chat with my two best friends, Zola and Sunita. They were asking if I finished the homework to which I responded in the positive before switching to the camera on my phone for a quick second to assess my makeup. Falling asleep in random places usually meant a smudge or two so I tended to nervously check after each nap. In the camera app, I inspected my face, examining all of my familiar features. My dark grey-blue eyes stared back at me, complete with my trademark under-eye circles and thick furrowed eyebrows. I pulled down on my lower eyelids, massaging the deep crescent moon bruises that betrayed my secrets. Dedicated makeup sessions could ease the problem, but I had grown tired of the routine. At some point, I decided to embrace my undead/goth vibe and got really good at putting on smoky eyeshadow. My naturally deep black hair had that pretty kind of vintage curl, that was only a result of me meticulously setting my hair in curlers each night. Any activity I could do was a welcome relief from the endless loop of cryptic dreams that awaited me in my sleep. I found that if I neglected my hair care routine, I would end up with a tangled frizzy mess, so I tended to stay on top of it. Once on accident, I had cut my bangs too short and found I loved the look. So now I take great care to curl them atop my head each morning in a cute retro style. I've been told I look like Bettie Page if she never slept. I was always a skinny kid, growing up, mostly due to my lack of interest in eating and the health problems that came from not sleeping. But I am happy to report that I have long since filled out since my skinny childhood days. I now enjoy the sight of my slightly pudgy stomach, soft curves, and thick thighs. I joked often to my friends that I had a Botticelli body, a famous painter known for drawing curvier women.

I turned my face left and right in the mirror checking for any smudged makeup or wild hairs that needed tweezing but found I was safe for the moment.

"Good enough!" I proclaimed to an empty house, as my grandfather had left to tend the orchard many hours ago. Grandpa George, aka George Hartmann, was my savior. He was a good friend of my parents and the one who battled the foster care system for years until he could adopt me. He gave me the first real home I ever had and for that, I would be forever grateful.

We lived together on a farm just outside of our small mountain town called Mandeville. Grandpa was famous for his apples, which we sold out of every Fall, peddling them at the local farmers market and to all the stores nearby. His ability to grow almost anything meant he had a second job as a consultant, making his way from farm to farm locally, giving out advice for a small fee.

I turned off my phone, tucking it back in my skirt pocket until it was needed again. I wasn't quite ready to rush out the door as I was enjoying my lazy morning. I let out a small satisfied sigh, glancing around at my surroundings. I loved our kitchen. It was the smallest part of the house but the most vibrant and inviting. There were bright pops of color everywhere, especially from our retro-style, yellow refrigerator, and the brightly painted green cabinets. Everything else in the room was a mismatch of different colored woods and random paint colors due to my grandfather expanding his home over the years, without much care for style. Since my arrival ten years ago I had added a few pieces of decoration here and there, mostly artwork or photos for the wall. I always complained about wanting more cooking appliances but with limited counter space and a lack of electric outlets, we had to make do with a microwave and a tiny toaster. The kitchen table was small, seating up to four people at a time as long as they didn't mind eating elbow to elbow. The table was crammed in the only available open space which was next to the bay window. I loved to sit for hours and stare out the window into our front yard. It was my go-to spot for homework, that was for sure.

I remembered when I first moved in how Grandpa complained that the kitchen was too dark, even with the large bay window. One day I came home from school to find that he decided to cut an opening into the kitchen wall creating a pass-through to the living room. He later filled it so full of houseplants that it nearly blocked the entire opening. I teased him about blocking out most of the light and he ignored me. I was convinced Grandpa would fill the whole house with plants if I let him.

I smiled as I stared at the aforementioned pass-through, fondly reminiscing about old times as I lingered in the kitchen. I blinked slowly, a sudden burst of morning light breaking through the clouds, warming my face. My focus changed to the large oak tree near the house, its branches low and heavy. It was Autumn and the leaves on the trees had already begun to change. Soon there would be endless raking and bagging of leaves before the snow came. The changing of the seasons also meant it was time for our biggest harvest. I hoped I could manage enough sleep to be useful this year, even though most of the time my Grandfather would have to hire and train some help, regardless of my effort.

I closed the curtain to block out some of the sunshine, looking down at the table in front of me. Before me sat a half-eaten plate of eggs and toast, which had grown cold while I napped. The beeping of my alarm resumed and I hastily fished my cell phone from my uniform skirt pocket once again. I swiped the silence button on the screen, grumbling as I did. That was my last alarm of the morning, signaling that I needed to get my butt moving or else I would be late for school. I had to make sure that the ringtone for this alarm was extra loud and annoying, as I had a habit of sleeping through the more peaceful jingles.

I yawned loudly and stretched my arms upwards, trying to return some feeling to my fingers. While I slept I had only made it to the forest part of my nightmares this time. I wondered if I would ever clearly see the face of the man I was marrying in my dreams. I had tried drawing him again and again to no avail. In each part of the dreams, I only saw his face for a moment, which was frustrating, to say the least. I couldn't remember falling asleep while eating breakfast this morning. However, because I had pulled an all-nighter to complete my latest English paper, it wasn't hard to imagine why.

The report, which I had sadly neglected until the last minute, was the beginning of an essay that we could use for our college applications. The subject was pretty standard, asking what we wanted for our future. I pondered this topic for a month but honestly wasn't even sure what I wanted. I was embarrassed that even though I was almost two years older than most of the graduating class, I was still unsure of the path I wanted to take toward my future. I was told I could always go to a local community college or art school, but more education didn't seem that appealing to me. Right now I had enough stress from my high school workload, thanks to the insomnia caused by my weird dreams. I honestly couldn't imagine adding student loans and strange roommates on top of everything else. I was barely making it through high school at the moment. Then there was also the idea of a life without my Grandfather. I didn't want to move away from the man who had helped me so much. Most kids my age were begging to get away from their parents but not me.

I guess I'm not really a kid anymore, I thought bitterly. Soon I would be twenty and too old for high school. I wasn't ready to be an adult.

As I mentally reviewed my essay and thus, the future of my education, I knew I couldn't stall any longer. I hastily pushed back my chair, grabbed my plate of half-eaten food, and tossed the leftovers in the trash. I dumped the dish in the sink to soak, and snatch my thermos off the counter.

Can't get through my day without some caffeine. I clutched my thermos to my chest enjoying its warmth for a moment, before begrudgingly stuffing it, my sketchbook, and my makeup bag into my backpack. As I did a mental checklist of my items, I rummaged into my bag, quickly liberating my favorite lip gloss from a side pocket. I dashed over to the mirror by the front door using a spare napkin to clean off any leftover breakfast before slathering on some lip gloss.

I straightened my navy sweater, then checked my school uniform skirt for any stains. The grey pleated skirt, white collared shirt, blue striped tie, and navy sweater were standard apparel for any student attending Royal Queen Academy. Each sweater was embroidered with our school crest on the left side, which was a crown covered in fancy filigree. I liked to wear my skirt as long as possible, the hem falling just past my knees. This was mostly because of my chosen mode of transportation, a bicycle, which I rode to and from the train to school. A few of the nastier girls at school mocked me for the length calling it 'old fashioned' but that never really bothered me.

I was almost ready as I took one last look in the mirror, adjusting my locket around my neck which was a memento from my mother. I straightened my black tights and slipped on my mary-janes, ready to make my normal mad dash for the train into the city. I eyed the old clock on the mantle before I headed towards the door, I would be cutting it close again today. I stopped to put on my coat jamming my arms into sleeves as I stumbled outside and made my way towards my bike. The weather was finally turning cooler and I was looking forward to the Fall season. Things were going pretty well and I made it through another night.

(To be continued in part 2)