I glowered, giving my skirts a quick tug. The bloody thing would not straighten! The waistline was too tight on my hips, and too loose on my stomach. It just didn't fit right, and it was my newest one, too. And this is why I don't sew. Ever. I let out a frustrated grunt and stormed over to the large trunk in the corner of the caravan and threw it open.
Old. Dirty. Wrecked. Dirty. Wrecked. Old. I frowned, grabbing at the only decent outfit I had left and tugged it out of the trunk. It would have to do, and besides, green was my favourite colour. Yes, I could do much worse than this. I could do much better, mind you, but there was no helping that.
I threw it onto the small cot sitting in the corner and started pulling off my clothes. If anybody walked in now, so help me I would claw their eyeballs out. I threw the sad excuse for a skirt into the middle of the caravan, replacing it with my old one. At least I knew it wouldn't fall off while I was walking.
I sat down on the edge of the cot, working on my top. It wasn't exactly the easiest to get on, part of the reason I was trying to replace it, but it was better than nothing.
It was only half on when the door swung open. I let out a loud yelp and tugged the rest down, glaring at the intruder. "Zaker!" I hissed, standing up quickly. "Do you not know how to knock? Honestly!" I turned away to hide my colouring cheeks and pretended to be thoroghly absorbed in folding my new outfit.
Men. They had to be the worst things in the whole word sometimes, I swear to whatever it is people swear to when they're embaressed.
Gender:
Points: 14918
Reviews: 384