Chapter One: Numb
I counted down from five under my breath and right on cue my cell phone began ringing on the pillow next to me. I sighed as I stared up at the white chipped paint on the ceiling of my bedroom. It was my mother. It was always my mother, every morning of every day at the same exact time. I turned my back on the phone to look out of the window. It was pouring down raining outside. Big surprise there, it rained so much Seattle. It was one of the reasons I decided to come here.
Like most days I didn’t want to talk to my mother. Though she called everyday, I only answered every blue moon to let her know that I was still alive. The phone rang and rang spreading a hollowing feeling through my body until the voicemail picked up. I continued to watch the rain splat against my window and roll down. I closed my eyes deciding to use the sound more than the sight as a useless lullaby knowing that I’d never fall asleep.
I lied in my bed for only moments before giving up and getting up. I ran my hand through my hair and trudged to the bathroom. The old carpet rubbed against my feet making a low scraping sound. I made it to the bathroom and brushed my teeth and washed my face before making my way to our weird L shaped kitchen. My body felt heavy like I was carrying two ton boulders on my shoulders as I opened the fridge door and pulled out the carton of eggs. Our fridge was always sparsely stocked. While I hardly ate anything, my roommate ate everything.
My roommate was a fascinating creature named Mick. He trudged in the kitchen and kissed the top of my head before sitting on the counter next to the stove. He was disheveled all the time. He had shoulder length brown messy hair and always seemed to have a five o’clock shadow. He was tall and gangly with permanently red and glazed eyes. He had the potential to be cute if he cleaned up a little but if he did, he wouldn’t be my Mick. Plus if you knew him long enough his cuteness shined through anyway. I loved all his scruffiness.
I’d known him for a little over two years. I could tell when I’d first met him that I would get a long great with him despite my mindset at the time. We’d gotten close fast and never came across any attraction or sexual tension. Now he’s like a protective older brother to me.
“Top of the morning to ya, love,” Mick said with his famous benign smile.
“Uh huh. You want Eggs?” I replied. He nodded and I started cooking. I wasn’t hungry but I always made him breakfast. It was part of my stale daily routine. He hopped off the counter and turned to the counter next to the sink. It was lined with small round flower pots with sprouting Mary Jane. He took out a plastic spray can and began squirting the plants with water. I finished his eggs and put the plate on the coffee table in the living room.
“Hurry up before they get cold,” I called and it didn’t take him long to come. He sat on the couch and jabbed a fork hungrily into the eggs.
“Munchies already?” I asked folding my arms and looking at him with an amused raised eyebrow. He nodded and scarfed down the food. I shook my head at and went back to my room.
The apartment we share is an average size two bedroom and one bathroom. It was in a nice little complex on the third and top floor. It had no elevator but good lighting. Well maybe I should say there’s a big window in the living room. There’s hardly ever enough sunlight to say good lighting. And there was also a window in the bedrooms and a small one in the kitchen. I loved it. The first day I moved in I knew instantly that the place had the perfect dreariness I wanted to carry out the rest of my days in.
* I haven't been on here in a while but this is a piece of something I've just started to write. I admit that I didn't do a lot of proofreading, so give it to me raw.
