Hi, again.

Cherri Kusuri here. You know the drill, I'm either projecting my mind into yours, communicating with you directly... ooooorrrrrr this is a diary being published after the fact, and I'm making huge cash off of it as we speak. Whatever case, this is now the second time I'm projecting telepathically to someone.

I have no guarantees on if this is the same person, to be honest. I can't hear you right now as I think, and I have no control as to who gets to read my thoughts. The instability of unlocking psychic abilities is- it's pretty rough. If I had my way, to be honest, I'd be projecting my mind to that one movie star. Have him think of my words 24/7 to the point where he writes me like a pen pal. Probably give him my phone number just in case.

... nah, he probably won't do it. He's like, married to a loving wife already according to the Wikipedia page. He's too good to leave his wife for a girl like me. I must be the bigger person and not break up a loving marriage. I must crush my own dreams to communicate with movie stars and celebrities, before I run the risk of becoming the homewrecker.

Also, I'm a teenage girl and he's a fully grown possibly middle aged man. So y'know, there's that.

Anyway.

Speaking of dreams, yeah. Okay. Second attempt. See, earlier this morning, maybe- before morning even came, I had a first attempt, and projected my mind to someone (or had the first chapter published and written, blah blah blah, whichever case it is, I can't be bothered to specify this every single time) right before I napped.

I remember that I told myself before sleeping: "the moment I wake up, I want to immediately continue speaking, to continue telepathically speaking, to chat the moment I'm conscious." It gives me time to harness my thoughts into my newfound telepathic/writing powers, to strengthen my mind up into an impenetrable fortress. Think, Cherri, think, you must think!

... waking up, I was then reminded of the difficulties of having a functional, thinking mind. A short one hour, maybe two hour nap later, complete and utter brain slush being pried out of my head with a metaphorical crowbar. My mind a scrambled, garbled mess upon awakening, with little to no recollection of what happened before the nap. Took me a while to remember I even started a mental diary to begin with.

Because I feel like padding this out, getting more of my words out there... here, I'll give you a play by play, 'cause why not?

So, first few seconds of my day, right next to my ear, I just hear something annoying, something that goes:

"BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

Something like that, but y'know, sounding more like an authentic alarm clock sound.

That something is a full blown alarm clock, and either I'm replicating its realistically loud chimes so well with my mind, or you're just reading a girl going "beep, beep, beep, beep, beep," in a diary.

Hehehe. Beep beep.

...

Moving on.

The moment that sound started, that beeping sound that grates on my ears, my face instinctively bunkered down. I gritted my teeth hard and clenched my eyes shut, straining up my face. As a result, the area around my face wrinkly and tense, a steel wall ready to hold my defenses up against this most obnoxious of threats. My entire bed the war zone, my face the barrier prepared for the aggressively relentless beep army trying to invade my sleep.

Point is, for those first few minutes of my life... I hate alarm clocks.

Heck, mornings and I never get along, rather, and the alarm clock is just a contributor to it. Alarm clocks are just doing their job, but it's just super annoying to devote energy into getting out of bed. A real big hassle to just- force myself out each and every day. I treat it like a war, because the feeling of having to fight for my life every morning's first few minutes is no exaggeration... it's intense and it's freaking painful.

You know how people used to wake up? The sun rises over the landscape horizon, higher and higher until you're awoken to the literal feeling of warmth and light shining down on your body. You cozily lie in bed with this feeling, your darkness illuminated and welcoming you to gracefully arise from your bed. You get to hear the birds harmoniously chirp and sing right outside your window, lively as ever. If not graceful singing, then some sort of singular morning bird squawk to tell you "oh, hey, time to wake up now!"

That's just what life was back then, people just woke up naturally to the sounds of nature waking up first. Heck, not to sound like an old lady clamoring for the nostalgic old days, but I miss when I had a farm rooster. A rooster doesn't need to wake you up, but he does anyway. Those guys do it for some reason I couldn't bother myself to look up or learn about, and they're pretty much champions at it.

A rooster was an energetic, welcome pep in my step. Now I just have a glowing-numbered box on the table screaming to be slapped quiet. Like, palm against the top, slap the crap out of the clock, and just stare at the ceiling wishing you were still asleep. This thing is ingrained into all of society now. It revolutionized waking up, but in a way that prioritized the results rather than the experience.

Ding dang newfangled portable beep beep beep machines.

Sure, I am exaggerating. Again, the clock can be shut off with a slap. That's the glory of the snooze button, sitting atop the clock itself. Just hit it, gently press it, or however else, and you get some few minutes of respite. Some more time to enjoy "sleeping" before you actually have to get up for realsies.

However, I couldn't bring myself to do so. I found myself in a situation where I was all cozy and comfy in my cool fluffy cake sheets, baked into a sweet lil' pastry. A sort of- cake wrap? Cake burrito. All nice and toasty, too comfortable to leave this blanket. Even in the summer heat, blanket too comfy to move arms.

So I just endured that sound, that horrible and agonizing BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP for a long while, an aggressive blizzard taking over my warm tropical self. Seconds turned to a minute. Minute to minutes. Maybe hours if my mind went that far.

Then, as if my own prayers have been answered... the alarm clock stops.

Peace... and tranquility. Once again... I, Cherri Kusuri, fought an alarm clock and totally won. Back to comfort, back to coziness, back to being a Cherri cake put back into the snuggly oven.

... and then my second alarm clock kicks in.

After the first one went quiet, I heard a voice call out to me. The immediate backup that replaced the beeping. Relatively more pleasant, but far too gentle to wake me up on its own.

So, a pair of hands grabbed me by the side and shook me awake, pushing and pulling me over and over again. Rocking me back and forth abruptly.

This brings up a good reason why I should not project my mind the first thing in the morning. As I was being shook awake by these hands, out came my first words of the morning: cuss words.

Tons and tons of cussing. Every sort of vulgar swear word I could utter in that moment, going for a variety of beginning alphabet letters and completely hammering away at the threat to my sleepy sleep. Of course, I'm not going to recite any of what I said to you, but like... trust me, I swore up a storm. A gruff and grizzled sailor would have blushed at what I was capable of, and I uttered enough words to feed a dozen boat guys with a bountiful feast of censored language. There would need to be five whole thanksgiving feasts to make up for these short and not-so-sweet onslaught of censored profanity.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Waking me up was not for the faint of heart.

However, even with my aggressively hostile swearing, the hands continued on and on, not stopping until I fully wake up. Therefore, the person this voice belonged is tougher and manlier than every single seaman on this planet, shaking me non-stop for an entire 20-30 seconds before I admitted defeat. The most powerful of alarm clock replacements, completely unbeatable.

"... uh, Cherri, can you- pass me the syrup?"

Oh, hold that thought, give me a moment. Gotta do something real quick.

"Sure," I respond, before picking up the bottle of maple syrup and hand it to my sister, Gumi, the toughest and manliest sailor of the seven seas.

Currently, while I'm telepathically speaking and/or writing something in a diary, I'm just contently at the dining table with my sister, Gumi, eating pancakes for breakfast. First breakfast of the entire school year and all, my buttery pancakes already drizzled with syrup.

"Here you go. Can you say hi for a moment?"

"Oh... uh, okay. Hi?"

Gumi says hi.

So, Gumi was the resilient swear-resistant girl that owned pair of hands shaking me awake, calling out: "Cherri... wake up..." in my ear. Already out of her bed, now imploring me to get out of my bed as well. As she is my little sister, she has grown a strong tolerance to my onslaught of angry cuss words.

The thing about Gumi is that she is ALSO not a morning person. Gumi hates the alarm clock as much as I do, and - like me - majorly struggles to get up and freshen herself up. However, between the two of us, Gumi is the best morning person ever. The moment the alarm clock sets off, Gumi is on "wake up Cherri" duty as she crosses the gap between our two beds, turns off the alarm of the alarm clock, and makes sure to wake me up.

Gumi's always been selfless like that, fulfilling that sort of sacrifice for both our sakes, and she's been the main reason I've been able to get out of bed whatsoever. The one person left in this entire world, possibly, to wake me up and break me out of my coziness prison. I can't imagine anyone else having the bravery or the motivation to wake me up like Gumi does. Been doing this for years upon years, and the tradition continues this year as well.

It may sound one sided, Gumi just helping me out of bed for no reward. Selfless and noble. However- no, that's wrong, there is a huge return for this action, something she gets out of it too.

Once I'm out of bed, that's when my job comes in, to make sure both of us are awake. I've played up how good Gumi is at getting out of bed and handling annoyed and irritated people who struggle to get out of bed, but she comes with her own struggle with staying out of her bed. After she actually actively makes sure I'm awake and kicking, she then shuts her mind off and automatically finds herself going back to bed. Walking back to bed, ready to sleep once again.

I don't blame her, really. Her bed is tricked the heck out with tens of pillows and tons of stuffed animals crowding her tiny lil' bed. Rather than wrap herself in a blanket and cling to it tightly, she retreats to her one person pillow fort and buries herself alive in comfort.

So, once I'm awake, I have a short window of time to actually... drag Gumi away from her bed. Grabbing her by the shoulders and dragging her to the bathroom, so both of us could freshen up for the day. Gumi is back in working order once water is splashed onto her face, and takes a bunch of time to wake up fully alongside me.

A bit of a tedious trek to the bathroom, having to get used to a new pathway to the bathroom, but... yeah, eventually, we do make it to a bathroom. With a cooperative duo effort to escape the comforts of our bed, Gumi and I are up and at 'em, getting our pearly whites brushed minty fresh.

Then, breakfast time. Sitting together, and with Hippo Dad. Our step-dad, the resident pancake maker of this new house, making great use of his new stove.

If there's anything nice I can say about Hippo Dad that my first telepathic communication didn't convey... it is that he's a pretty good breakfast maker. Took to cooking for himself as a hobby, and- well, more or less makes stuff for us just to keep us alive and well. A necessity to maintain the Kusuri good looks, as we're complete liabilities to him if he makes us ugly through the cheap crap.

His go to meals vary, but right now Gumi and I each have plates of homemade pancakes with supermarket orange juice. Breakfast is always a good indicator of how Hippo Dad is feeling about his upcoming day. Pancakes translate to a "today is going to be a great day", waffles are "today is going to be a good day", bacon and eggs with sausage is "I'm so excited for today!", and cereal is "don't have time for you, kids, gotta go".

I don't really bother with checking up on him. Gumi does that for me. I just eat my pancakes and sort of pretend to listen, still feeling as disconnected as ever when I speak with him.

"... Cherri?"

Oh, crap, he's speaking to me. He's BEEN speaking to me. He said something before my name. Some sentence.

I look to Gumi for a moment, mouth full of pancakes, staring at her as I chew.

"Well- I think Cherri's going to do fine at our new school..." Gumi responds.

Oh, okay, he was just talking with me about school. "Right. Right. I'm ready for the school."

"Are you sure? Because... well, if you say so. Just be good at school, okay?" Hippo Dad instructs me, having a sort of... condescending tone.

"I will. Hope you have a good day at work too, pops," I calmly tell him.

Gumi and I finish our breakfast, pancakes eaten and orange juice drank, and... now it's time to get dressed for school. Back up the stairs we go, back to our room, and then changing out of pajamas to wear our new high school uniforms.

Back in our middle school, school uniforms were like... an absolute necessity. Our middle school had guys and girls wear white button shirts and khakis for everyone, no exceptions. Some nonsense about building character, building "uniformity", unifying people together through school spirit or something.

Kinda probably contributed to why I didn't really care much about the people there. Nobody stood out. We all just wore the same unappealing, boring outfit day in and day out. The only thing I could judge them by were their species. Dog guy, cat guy, even a dolphin guy- I really just could not bring myself to care about them.

Take a moment to imagine that for a bit. Just- name some unique animal species, and you'll find an anthropomorphic version of it at our middle school... just wearing a shirt and khakis.

Would you still care about them?

Needless to say, our new high school is a breath of fresh air. Apparently, the uniforms are less strict, as all we ultimately need to wear is a button shirt. The guys wear things like jeans and khakis, interchangeably, while the girls wear skirts that go down to their knees.

Did a bit of research, and I discovered the school never specified what color we have to wear, so... this is our chance to wear something worth looking at. Clothes that Hippo Dad bought for us on our first day here, clothes we've been preparing to wear for this exact day. Ready to bypass the color loophole and stand out in our new uniforms.

I'll start with Gumi first. See, she chose a sort of white beige-ish shirt that gives off sweater vibes. Slightly baggier than the usual shirt, outfitted alongside a nice pink tie and skirt. Tie is striped with alternating pink, white and some faded darker pink, while her skirt is a checkerboard tartan plaid of pink and something- grayish. The dark color of her skirt and tie really accentuates the whole bright vibe she's going for, draws more attention to the lighter tie and bright shirt. Really gives off "model student" aesthetic while giving it enough of a unique flair to stand out.

Meanwhile, here I am in a pitch black shirt, wearing a red skirt and red tie. Both my tie and skirt are plaid with just- red, a faded red, and a light red. Pure red altogether, with my black shirt dark enough to draw eyes to my vibrant red. Looks almost normal enough, but I made myself look cooler by putting on a black belt with a silver chain around my hips. Mostly did this to look more unique, going for a completely contrasting shirt.

With this, our social lives can finally begin on this first day of high school. Both of us prepared for the social life of a lifetime. With our unique spins on these uniforms, we're gonna stand out and get a bunch of people looking at us and thinking: "oh, wow! Those two human girls over there look so cool and cute and I wanna be their friend and probably go out with them or something," or something! The ultimate plan to cement our social lives.

First impressions and first looks are essential to standing out, after all. Once, we were just the two pink haired girls. Now we're going to be the pink haired, red and pink girls in the coolest, cutest, most eye-catching uniforms we can pull off.

With that, Gumi and I are now leaving the house, and start our walk to the bus stop near our house, taking our first steps to our new social life. Hippo Dad signed us up for riding the bus, which gives more ample time to meet our potential classmates that ALSO ride the bus.

The possibilities on the bus are endless, and my plan is utterly foolproof. Gumi and I are going to be the most popular girls on that bus alone! So much to do, so much we need to be ready for... mentally preparing ourselves for this new environment, ready to completely and utterly triumph this new chapter in our lives.

I shared an excited lil' smile with Gumi, whose gentle smile indicated she was ALSO very excited for today. Backpacks on our backs, super duper excited.

The bus could not get here any sooner...

Hehe.

Well, anyway, I think that's it for this part. I need to collect my thoughts and prepare myself for this first impression. I'll give an update to my mental diary at some point, once we're far into the school day, but for now- I'm stopping here.

See you later, Mr. California, or whoever else it is that is hearing me/reading this!