It was a fine, beautiful morning—the kind where the sun beams down like it's trying to blind you, the birds chirp like they're auditioning for The Voice, and honestly, I'd rather be anywhere else.
I was sitting peacefully in my house's compound, sipping tea—or at least trying to—when a stupid bird decided it was a great idea to turn into my personal stalker.
It kept swooping down, probably plotting to steal my lunch or my soul.
I was holding my book, trying to focus, but my round brown glasses kept slipping down my nose like they were trying to escape.
I kept pushing them back up, muttering under my breath, "Come on, glasses, stay in your lane." Then—bam!—they slid again.
I sighed like I was auditioning for a soap opera and adjusted them with a dramatic flair.
My blonde hair was tied in two playful ponytails, strands curling around my face like they were part of a wild, untamed jungle.
It was just a casual day—because who needs fancy when you've got a bird that's auditioning for Ninja Bird: The Silent Strike?
Suddenly, my mom's voice cut through the peaceful morning like a missile: "Ayana!!"
My heart did a somersault so big I thought it might jump out of my chest.
For a second, I thought I'd gotten into trouble—maybe I'd accidentally set the house on fire or eaten her secret stash of cookies.
But no, I looked up and saw her sitting on the couch, her black hair tied in a messy mom bun, her smile warm but with a hint of "Brace yourself, I've got news."
"Yes, Mom. Someone from Mars could hear you shouting my name," I said, plopping down on the couch across from her like a defeated hero.
She just smiled like she was about to drop some life-changing news. The kind that makes you want to either scream or faint.
"What is it, Mom?" I asked, already feeling a mix of curiosity and dread—like waiting for a surprise exam.
She nodded, clearly excited. "Great news! Your brother is gonna to be going to the same school as you now!"
My jaw hit the floor faster than I could process it. "WHAT?! Why?"
She shrugged casually, like she was ordering a coffee. "Because his friends transferred to that school, so he wants to go too."
Great. Just what I needed—a new roommate in my personal universe of awkwardness. And guess who's the star? Mr. I-Can-Beat-Anyone-In-Anything himself.
I rolled my eyes so hard I was convinced they might stay stuck that way.
"How will you afford that? Our school fees are basically rent on a small island," I said, voice full of disbelief and frustration.
She waved her hand dismissively.
"Do you mind? We can manage. We're not exactly broke—we're middle class! And I want what's best for you and him. That way, he can protect you."
Inner thoughts:Protect me? From what? His terrible taste in music? His inability to find his socks? Or from the monster under my bed? or maybe from himself.
Yeah, no. The idea of having my "great protector" brother in the same school? That was like giving a lion a lamb and expecting it to be gentle.
I couldn't take it anymore. I shot up from the couch, dramatically grabbed my book, and bolted to my room faster than a squirrel on energy drinks.
I closed the door with a bang, then flopped onto my bed like a fish out of water.
I started swinging my arms and legs around wildly, crying out of frustration.
"Bloody brother," I shouted into my pillow. "Now my school life will be a total nightmare!"
Then I added, voice rising in melodramatic despair:
"Everyone—even though I'm pretty cute and totally invisible in that school—will now think I'm an ugly goat compared to him. I'll be living in his shadow, and honestly, I might as well get a cape and call myself 'Shadow Queen' or something."
And the thought of everyone comparing me to him, even in my own mind, was enough to make me want to hide under the bed forever.
Inner thought:Great. Just brilliant. Now I'll be the invisible goat in the background, trying to avoid his shadow like it's some kind of monster from a horror movie.
Suddenly, I heard a loud thud from the hallway.
My brother—Mr. "I'm-Too-Cool-For-Everything"—had apparently just fallen down the stairs again, judging by the loud groan and the thumping sound.
I rolled my eyes and muttered,
"Yep, that's my super protector for you. I'll be safe… as long as he doesn't accidentally set the school on fire."
As I lay there, contemplating my tragic fate, I couldn't help but laugh softly at the absurdity of it all.
Because, honestly, if I didn't laugh, I'd cry—and I'd rather save my tears for trying to figure out how to survive the new school year with a brother who's basically a walking disaster.
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But then I remembered my best friend, Nena. Well, not exactly "around," because she's more like my online best friend—kind of like a digital fairy godmother who's never seen me in real life but still knows all my secrets.
We have so much in common that it's almost suspicious.
Even our last names are similar—her middle name is nicer than my own (probably because it's fancy, unlike my boring old first name).
We've never seen each other face-to-face, only talked on the phone and texted like two secret agents exchanging messages in the dead of night.
Honestly, I prefer texting. Talking is just so tiring—like running a marathon, but with words. Yeah, I know—lazy. But don't judge.
She's in Japan, I'm in London, and somehow, despite the distance, she always manages to be the voice of reason—or at least, the voice that laughs at my misery.
When I remembered her, I quickly grabbed my phone and typed, "Hi, free to chat?"
Almost immediately, she replied, "Sure! Let's do it."
Before I could say "Hi," she called me. Typical Nena—always straight to the important stuff.
I poured out my story like a dramatic soap opera: about the betrayal of my beloved brother being shoehorned into my school (cue the ominous music), and how a bird had decided my morning was its personal stage to perform ninja attacks.
I told her about how I was trying to read peacefully while this feathered ninja kept swooping at my face.
Nena just burst out laughing, her voice bubbling with amusement.
"Girl, you need to man up! Or woman up, I guess," she said, chuckling.
"If a bird's disturbing your peace, just tell it to take a hike. Or better yet, train it—become the bird whisperer, and then you'll rule the skies!"
I snorted, feeling a little better already.
"Yeah, maybe I should get a bird-sized karate outfit," I joked. "Then I'll train it to do my homework or fetch my snacks."
She giggled again. "See? Everything will be okay. You just gotta be strong. You're tougher than that bird—and definitely more fashionable than it."
I leaned back, feeling positive, like I'd just been handed a secret weapon: humor.
Because if I didn't laugh at the absurdity of my life, I'd cry, and honestly, I'd rather laugh until I snort milk out of my nose.
"Thanks, Nena," I said, smiling. "You're the best. Even if you're just a pixelated hero in my life."
She replied, "Anytime, sis. Remember: you're more than your brother's shadow. You're the star of your own show—just make sure the bird doesn't steal the spotlight!"
And I laughed, feeling a little more ready to face the chaos—because if a bird can't ruin my morning, then maybe, just maybe, I can survive my new school life too.