I never thought the day would come.  I had felt the searing, tingling pain on my left foot during my study hall.  .  Keeping in my cries low to nonexistent was probably one of the most difficult things I've had to do but what has to be done must be done.  Hands forming into firm fists, knuckles turning white, and biting my bottom lip till it drew blood.  Yeah, it's that bad.  For what seemed like hours but really only several seconds, the pain had subsided and an icy and relaxing sensation had made up for those agonizing seconds.  When I had found my bearings, I realized that my face was flushed and probably looked like I just took a dump or something--feeling my face, warm and moist here are there from sweating.  This is just great.
        Feeling the little bits of the icy relief, I scooted the chair out and bent down to see the mark.  I've heard stories of these "fated marks" to come in all sorts of designs and appear like a tattoo.  Is this...a unicorn?  It's simple line art (yet it hurt like a ) and of what looked like a horse's head with a horn sticking out from it's forehead, I'm guessing that it has to be.  Quickly, I grabbed my things and shoved whatever I could into my bag and practically dashed out of the art room, where I had decided to do my work, and headed to my car, and then home.

        Upon entering my house, my mom had greeted me.

        "Hello sweetie, how was school?" Her voice cheery as she was washing dishes.  Groaning, I head into the kitchen about to, or more like thinking of slamming my head onto the sparkly, marble island but my mom had sensed my distressed mood.

        "I'm guessing you had a horrible day?" Plopping myself on one of the high chairs around the marble table, I fold my arms and lay my head in them, in hopes that I don't have to deal with the stupid mark that just had to burn itself into my skin.

        "Now Mina, what's wrong? The birthday girl shouldn't be in such a sour mood." Okay, she's genuinely worried.  Picking up my head and facing her, she's holding a whisk with homemade whipped cream around the wired end; I seriously just love the homemade cake she makes me. Oh right, it's my birthday. Double yay.  Anyway, I sigh while I rest my head in the palm of my hand and, as if my mom knew, she scooped a bit of the whipped cream with her index finger and gave me some. So good.

        "Or is it too personal for you to tell your mother?" She sounded hurt.  I couldn't help but tell her, but then again I wanted to tell her, since it's concerning my future and whatnot.

        "Mom..."
        "Mhh?"
        "I got the mark." Hinting subtly while slowly slumping my shoulders and, ultimately, most of my upper body onto the cold marble. I groan.  Seconds later, I hear something fall and my first instinct is to jump or "vibrate" in my spot.  Funny, huh?  Almost immediately, I spring up into a proper sitting position; I stare at my mom and she looked taken aback by my little revelation.

        I'm a little slow, so what happened in the next milliseconds caught me way off guard. She had walked up to me, with a slight poker face, hiding whatever happiness she had wanted to conceal, and g