Terrify

I've never understood why everyone is obsessed with horror flicks and movie theater screams and recounting nightmares to an admiring crew until I became Netflix-obsessed with Pretty Little Liars - not a good idea for a pathologically plagued girl such as myself. Nevertheless, hardly a second passes without me wondering who just called Emily or where Aria is driving alone this time. It's almost comical, the aboutface that's made me stare at a screen all day. Will I sleep? Ah, insomnia is a curse. But the problem with lying awake in bed is that I might have to think about the fact that this morning my mom asked me if I still told complete strangers my grades (no). Actually, she didn't even ask, she assumed the answer was affirmative. I'm changing, and she can hardly see it. I can barely see it. I want a better mirror.