The shrill ringing of the alarm clock pierced the morning silence. Soon, as if in perfect harmony, all the other alarm clocks joined in, creating a cacophony of sound. A reluctant, fair-skinned hand emerged from the covers, grasping the nearest and loudest alarm clock, and hurled it at the others.
With a loud clatter, the clocks tumbled to the floor, a perfect strike. Despite her impressive aim, the clocks continued their relentless ringing.
A long, drawn-out sigh emanated from the bed as the small figure sat up. Golden-brown hair stood in disarray atop her head, and her sleepy eyes blinked groggily. Her rosy cheeks bore the telltale signs of having been nestled against the blankets, and her pajama top hung off one shoulder, revealing smooth skin—a picture of adorable dishevelment that could melt any heart.
Rubbing her eyes and yawning widely, the little girl stretched with a lethally cute pose and grumbled, "Damn it! Stupid alarms, can't even let me sleep a little longer!"
Any doting uncle who heard such language from such an adorable girl would be left in shock, glasses shattering metaphorically.
A gentle knock on the door was followed by a middle-aged woman's head peeking through the slightly opened door. "Good morning, sweetie. Time to get up."
"I know, Jennifer. I'm coming," the little girl replied, her grumpy demeanor replaced with a cute tongue-out expression as she clambered out of bed to turn off each alarm clock.
"Alright then, ten minutes. Mrs. Mason is waiting for you," Jennifer said, smiling as she closed the door.
The little girl sat back down on her bed with an adult-like weariness and mumbled, "Oh man, being under someone's thumb for the next few years is such a drag. What a tragic world!"
In an instant, she perked up again. "But hey, it could be worse. At least there's a light at the end of this tunnel."
Muttering to herself, the girl walked into her private bathroom. Looking into the large mirror, she gave herself a bright smile, then grimaced playfully. "Good morning, Miss Mason!"
She moved to the toilet, lifted the lid, and reached into her underwear, then stopped, realizing her mistake. "Damn it, I forgot again," she muttered, turning around to sit down. "Thirty years of habit don't change easily in eleven."
Despite her grumbling, she quickly brushed her teeth and washed her face. Sitting at her vanity, she expertly tamed her wild hair, adding a cute butterfly-shaped clip for extra charm.
Selecting clothes from her wardrobe, she chose a light green short-sleeved t-shirt and jeans. Though simple, they highlighted her fair skin and added a touch of playfulness to her adorable look.
"Fashion is important, but so is taste and personality. Too much personality, though, and you'll be seen as odd," she mused, looking at her reflection. Then she pulled a face, "God, I might as well jump out the window and hope my next mother isn't a British aristocrat."
"Catherine!" The door swung open, revealing a slender, elegantly dressed woman with curly brown hair and kind blue eyes. Her simple but perfectly chosen outfit, especially the smart mustard-yellow jacket, made her look both noble and approachable.
The little girl's pout turned into a smile in an instant. "Sorry, Mommy. I'm a little late."
"Let's go downstairs. You'll be late," her mother said, beckoning her. The little girl obediently took her mother's hand and followed her downstairs.
Sunlight streamed into the living room, illuminating the elegant decor. Catherine's mother sighed softly at the sight of a man lounging at the dining table in striped pajamas, about 35 years old, reading a newspaper while stirring his coffee. His handsome features and deep, dark eyes were captivating.
"Dear, you should really get dressed for breakfast," her mother said as they descended the stairs.
"Alright, Susan. We're in LA, not London or Bristol," the man replied, putting down the newspaper with a sigh.
"But you need to set a good example, or Catherine will use you as an excuse," Susan said, shaking her head.
"Is that so?" the man asked, turning to the little girl. "Are you using me as an excuse, kiddo?"
"Actually, Mr. Michael Mason, I'm using you as a shield," Catherine replied with mock seriousness.
"There you go, Susan. She's not using me as an excuse," Michael said, spreading his hands in mock defeat.
"Alright, you two, let's have breakfast," Susan said, exasperated, as she sat down at the table.
The breakfast spread was impressive by American standards: oatmeal, eggs, salad, French toast, and pancakes. Despite having eaten this many times, Catherine still found it delicious.
She ate her breakfast slowly and daintily, trying to maintain proper decorum. Deep down, she wished she could gobble it down quickly and dash off to school, but she knew that would earn her a stern look from her mother—something even her father, Vincent, couldn't ignore.
"Mommy, I'm done. Can I go to school now?" Catherine asked, wiping her mouth with a napkin and looking at her mother with sparkling green eyes.
"Of course, darling. Be careful," her mother said, kissing her on the cheek. Vincent also gave her a peck on the cheek. "Do you need a ride, sweetie?"
"No, thanks, Daddy," she replied, still getting used to calling this man her father despite living with him for over a decade.
Catherine took the small backpack handed to her by Jennifer and dashed to the door. Waving goodbye to her parents, she ran out, speeding through the garden and out the gate. Once on the street, she let out a triumphant cheer and continued running.
She finally stopped at the corner of Amelante Street, the border between the affluent and middle-class areas of Los Angeles, and her school bus stop. St. John's Elementary was a public school, unlike the private schools most kids from wealthy families attended.
Private schools, often affiliated with churches, had too many rules and regulations for her taste. After hearing too many horror stories about church-run schools, Catherine, with her past-life experiences, wasn't keen on the idea. With the help of her father, she managed to convince her mother to let her attend public school.
As the yellow school bus appeared, Catherine waved her hand, stretching with a smile. "A new day begins!"