⚠️ Content note: This chapter briefly mentions self-harm scars.

I slowly turn from my side to my back and open a quarter of my eyelid as I hear my mother call out. Oh! Yeah, I am Aashi. 

"Hmm." I hum as a sign that I am awake.

We all know how difficult it is to wake up early when we slept late, right? And that same thing happens to me every school day, but on days when I have slept for just 3 hours or less. 

I am still lying on my bed and look beside me, where my sister sleeps, to find it empty.

As always, she’s already up and gone, leaving her cotton blanket sprawled out for me to deal with.

I exhale and slowly get up. I can't get up quickly, or else I'll be sneezing forever.

I fold my blanket, then Anne's. I put those pillows one over the other, blankets in between them, to make a perfect pistachio-flavoured cream biscuit, at the corner of my bed.

As I get out of bed and lumber to the basin, located in front of my room's door, to brush my teeth, I find Anne inquiring of my mother what she has made us for tiffin. She could easily blend in with those old gossiping aunties — you know the type, always slandering other women, their families, their clothes, their lives… basically anything that’s none of their business.

I bet she gossips a lot at school.

I look in the mirror at myself. My eyes are still just half open and can't open for long, too sensitive to light, but they seem so pretty also. Why wouldn't they? They are my eyes after all, I love them!

I pull my toothbrush from the wall stand, rinse it, and squeeze on the toothpaste.

Before I put the brush into my mouth, I splash water on my face to open my eyes wholly.

My eyes finally open, after splashing, and show their almond shape fully.

I brush my teeth, then take off my bath gown from the hook. Then the gown goes with me to my bathroom, which is just out my bedroom door, on the right-hand side. 

You know what? Taking a bath is such a boring and hard task. I force myself to take it anyway.

I scrub hard at those scratch marks on my upper forearm, just below the elbow. I don't like it when the marks get crusty, yet rows of tender ridges line my arm, proof of something done quietly and alone. I just have to get rid of it. I am fine. I am, amn't I? 

I usually try to quickly get out because-

"Sis! Come out! I have to take a bath, too!", Anne yells.

Well, you know now.

I get out and rush to my room, completely ignoring Anne's side eye.

I wear my school uniform while looking at the table top clock again and again. It's 6.25 a.m. and I am almost ready. I was fast, right?

I rush out when my sister enters the room. 

Anne says, "Bath fast, I also have to bath. Or I'll be the one to bath first."

I think you should then rush to the bathroom instead of the kitchen if you wanna do that. But it is not worth telling her that. She will just make a scene in the morning, and mother will yell at me because I am the older one. 

So I just ignore her and go out. I enter my mother's room, actually, my parents' room, to do my skincare. Father's spot is empty, on the bed, I mean. He usually sleeps there until we leave.

I spray toner, wipe my face, put moisturiser that works against acne, and at last, sunscreen.

I leave their room and take the lunch box from the dining table and put it in my bag. It's already 6.40?!

My mother comes and parts my hair into 2 equal parts to make 2 braids. Anne had got ready before me since she doesn't have to do any skincare or even wear everything herself. Mother puts on her tie and belt, and also the shirt! Her hair, obviously, is done by my mother. 

Anne shouts from the hall, "Mom! I forgot my handkerchief. Please, give me one."

My hair was done, so I fetched a handkerchief from mother's room and took my bag along. As I stride towards the hall, the outermost part of my house, my father nags me aggressively, "Aashi! Can't you move fast? Do you want to leave for school or not?!"

I want to say I am moving fast! Can't you see? Why do you always have to see me as a slow turtle? Ugh! 

But there's no use in arguing with him. Actually, arguing with my parents is useless. They have to win no matter what. So they'll say nonsense as proof or whatever and then wish for me to accept my defeat, so I'd rather not argue and waste my important energy. 

I simply nod and stride forward. Hand her the handkerchief, wear my school shoes and school bag, and move out of my house.