The sunlight beamed in the room, Naomi hummed a sweet song as she brushed her golden hair, sitting in front on the dressing table, seeing at her own reflection in the mirror. She tied her hair into a bun, staring into reflection greenish/greyish eyes as she slowly lowered her hairbrush, her frowned lips tilted up into a smile. A forced smile, but eyes carried the pain.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes; she thought of happy thoughts, things that brought her joy. A warm smile finally graced her rosy lips and her eyes opened, staring at the greenish/greyish eyes in the mirror, glee sparkled in her eyes. “I am Naomi Hill, high school history teacher. A normal,” she said, exhaling deeply before standing up.
Stepping out the house, she spots Mrs Becker’s out in her garden, “Good morn
