Jamila

Once adequately clean, I step out of the shower and wrap myself in a white, fluffy towel. I take a long look at myself in the mirror. My mom always says how much I look like her, but I don't see it. 
I'm slender, yet I have some curves. My mom has an hourglass figure to die for. I have long curly hair almost reaching my waist, while hers is coily. My eyes are brilliant silver that glints another color if you look closely, while hers are chocolate brown. I have plump, pouty ...