The next morning her alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. This was enough time to get cleaned up, do some journaling, and of course get some cigarettes before beginning the long trek to school. Her jeans were old and faded and they were speckled with splatters of paint in her favorite colors which were of course pink and green. She pulled her lime green hoodie over the top of her head, this action left her ponytail disheveled. In that instant, she wished she cared a bit more about her appearance. but she would be kidding herself or anyone else if she tried. Her brown, messy hair hung without purpose. served as a sort of veil to hide the young woman's stunning green eyes from the world which she would often see as all too cruel to her. She had to finish getting ready for school. Sliding, the flowery peach curtains, back she saw the rain coming down in sheets making giant puddles. She slid her feet into a pair of light pink flip flops. She was too lazy to find her other shoes which were for certain, hidden somewhere in the pile old soda cans and silver flavoring packets from Ramen noodles. Her backpack was still on the stairs, she wondered if the paper she had written quickly in study hall, would be waterlogged and crumbled. This thought made her stomach well up into throat. She’d spent far too long writing the paper of history of King Henry VIII and his many wives to let it be destroyed by the wrath of Mother Nature.

The bottom of her pink backpack was wet, she silently counted her blessing as she felt around in her pocket for cigarette money and found it. She jogged to the Mini Mart not too far from school, a reprieve from the rain end of course insert of the all-important tobacco. She found both, she made her way over the cigarette counter, making sure to keep your head down as if she was looking at the selection of brightly colored lighters on display, but really trying to avoid making eye contact with the clerk at the store. She feared they would ask for ID which she did not have. If they found out she was underage, her bad habit would surely be exposed. She knew she didn't have the money to pay any fines, and her father may or may not have cell service on this part what is latest journey as a long-haul trucker. She saw the fluffy gray hair and the blue and white gingham pattern on the shirt that the cashier was wearing, Spencer handed the woman the money and said thank you. Her hand had begun to tremble. The elderly woman behind the register smiled at her “is it cold out there?” Spencer nodded her head quickly, “Hang on a second darling.” said the old woman, and she hurried from her post. She came back with a cup of hot coffee and a donut. The old woman then said “if you drop it nasty habit, I won't tell on you and breakfast is on me.” The teen looked up and smiled at the old woman in a kind of I haven't seen my grandma in a long-time sort of way. And then she rushed out the door.