I don't care.
Dappled sunlight slanted tentatively through the curtains as the blaring of an alarm clock echoed out into the eerily silent house. Anna groaned, slapping the switch with such force that'd alarm anyone. How infantile, the clock chided, Really, you're not a baby! Switch me off properly.
She sniffed wearily, holding her ebony curls in a makeshift ponytail, glancing at the clock reproachfully. Really, she'd left Singapore for what was supposed to be a holiday - a break, especially from her nagging aunt. This clock was supposed to keep her company, but on the contrary, it was a frightening carbon copy of her aunt.
"Yeah, right," she scoffed nonchalantly, "What're you telling me that for? I don't care."
