Chapter 2: A wake up call

I wake up in haze, until the excitement hits and begins coursing through my veins. I practically jump out of bed, and in doing so my blanket wrapped itself around my legs causing me to fall. A nice thunk is released as my face bounces off of the wooden floor. I turn on to my backside while releasing a groan to acknowledge the pain the fall had caused. Then I remembered today is my selection day. Excitement flowed freely again as I started to kick my way out of the blanket I found my feet consumed in. "I'm free" I cheer as I begin standing up. When I stood up straight I glanced in a mirror I had prompted up against the corner of my room. I notice how crazy I had looked in my blue athletic shorts paired with my bright pink tank top. My crazy head of bed head didn't help the situation much either. Quickly I look at a clock on my clock and see that it is already eight fifty-three, and I need to be at the the school by nine thirty. I wish for a miracle as I open my closet. It composed of about ten hangers with either a shirt or pair of trousers. I put on my favorite purple shirt which was a T shirt with a geometric cube pattern consisting of varied shades of purple. I also but in a black pair of jeans that I have favored due to how they weren't to tight or to loose. I look in the mirror to check. Crap I forgot to do my hair it was either be late to my selection day which was frowned upon or be on time with messy hair. I grab my comb and sprint out of my room. I start to frantically comb through my hair as I jump down the three stairs that lead up into my room. I see my dad in are kitchen holding my little sister. My dad turns around with a big whitened smile and invites me to sit down. It is always hard to say no to my dad he wears a perfectly huge smile along with his wavy chessnut brown hair and eyes. "Busy day I have to get to selection," I say while rubbing my little sisters tummy making her chuckle in dad's arms. My sister heather was three years old and looked just like dad with brown wavy eyes and hair, and the same luminous smile. I on the other hand take after my mom I have got black straight hair and weirdly a set of dark grey eyes. This combinations has gained me the nickname of noir which is apparently some old dead languages word for black. My real name is Hetier which is a somewhat common name, but I've always gone by noir so I sometimes forget to respond to Hetier. I look up at my dad "Wish me luck," I say walking off "See you there he replies." I open the door and hop into the light of day ready to go forward.