Quite rough. Really just submitting to test out the new submission forum... xD enjoy.
~
I've never been a interesting person. In fact, I'm a quite normal everyday person, who does quite normal, everyday things. It's always been a mystery to me how I could be so vastly uninteresting, and have a best friend such as Annmarie.
Annmarie, the girl of mysteries and the sky, who writes in blue bound journals about constellations, and how she's merely lost in a mess of confused and lost stars that will never find their way in life. For years, I followed Annmarie around on adventures, watching as she loudly got herself into trouble and tried to metaphorically reason why exactly she never seemed to do anything right.
Deep down, I always knew the reason Annmarie could never find her constellation was because she never looked for it. She wanted to be lost in the wide sky, because it made her feel important. However, I didn't accept this logic for a very long time.
So when our story starts, I'm still deluded into thinking that Annmarie will one day discover exactly what she's looking for, and convinced that I'm as lost as she.
Before The Beginning-
This is the story of Annmarie Martin, her nameless cat, her best friend Margaret Ackles, her ex boyfriend Joel Nodes and the great wide expanse of the sky and the poor stars lost in it.
Annmarie's cat didn't have a name. It was the kind of cat that you never knew where you stood with, and thus, Annmarie had never given it a name. She'd always had weird feelings about her cat, thinking that maybe it wasn't all feline and might have been half human. Except when it did decidedly cat like things. The morning upon which our story starts, for instance. She'd woken up to feel the soft paws of the cat on her chest, it's nose tickling hers. Pushing it off, she'd gotten up, stumbling to the bathroom.
Annmarie was the kind of girl to keep her state of the art coffee maker in the bathroom, ready to be switched on as soon as she woke up. She was also the type to not be very observant until she had drank at least 1/3 of a cup. So it really wasn't the cat's fault that she didn't notice her couch cushions ripped to shreds until she was leaving for work. However, she blamed the cat for all the events that followed that day. She also happened to be the kind of person to stand in her living room shouting at her cat for twenty minutes, who was supremely unconcerned with the proceedings and sat on the bits of fluff on the floor licking it's paws for the entirety of her rant. The rant lasted twenty minutes, making her late for work for the third time in a month, triggering her boss' rule of "three strikes and you're out, young lady," which consequently resulted in Annmarie being fired.
Which meant I received a call at work at nine o'clock on a Monday morning, while I was trying to figure out exactly how much debt I'd created the day before on a shopping trip with none other than, you guessed it, Annmarie Martin. I could tell as soon as I picked up the phone that I shouldn't have, yet it happened anyway. Which is why I blame her for all the events that followed. "I need you, right this second."
"What for?"
"I just got fired."
"Annie..." I said slowly, sitting up in my chair and glancing around.
"And I'm leaving."
"You're what?" I wasn't sure I'd heard right. Even though I'd been used to her dramatics for years. She'd threatened to 'run away' before, but something in her voice had changed since the last time I'd heard her say those words.
"Leaving. I'm going on a road trip and I want you to come."
"You want me to come?"
"Yes."
What I did next was probably one of the most idiotic and wonderful decisions of my life. I had glanced down, looking at the computer screen, at the debt that had piled up entirely on accident, at the gray walls of my cubicle that held no mementoes, just post-it-notes from weeks ago. "Okay."
The phone clicked in response and I stood up, logging off my bank account, and grabbing my purse from the back of my chair. As I left the office, I waved to the one person I'd made friends with since I started working there two years ago.
"Where are you going?" She asked, her drawn on eyebrows raising in surprise.
"On an adventure, Nancy."
"Lucky." She mumbled, turning back to her laptop with a sniff of disapproval.
It wasn't until I was in the car that I realized how stupid an idea it was to go on this 'adventure' with Annmarie. I slowed the car, lifting my foot off the gas and coasting for a second. The sound of the radio interrupted my thoughts, the bored voice of some poor soul stuck on the radio at an early hour reciting the weather forecast in a droning, listless voice. "What the hell," I whispered to myself, placing my foot back on the gas. "Let's do this."
When I arrived at Annmarie's apartment, it was in chaos. The screaming cat was sitting on the coffee table in a carrier, it's grumpy face peering out of the gloom with a menacing leer. Annmarie was running around in shorts and a bra, shouting over the stereo that was singing at full blast that she couldn't find any of her shirts, and where the hell have you been, Maggie? I've been waiting for you!
I apologized and went to the speakers, turning down the volume to a less ear splitting level.
"Are you packed? Are you ready for the grandest adventure of our lives?"
I nodded, holding up the suitcase that was in my hand.
"Hurrah!" She said, running to my side and returning the stereo to it's previous level. "As soon as I find my shirt, we'll be ready to hit the road!"
I sighed and turned down the music again, sitting on her couch and leaning forward to look into the crate that held a very angry cat. She bounded back into the room, dragging a suitcase bursting with clothes behind her, a toothbrush sticking out of the side of her mouth. Throwing the said toothbrush into the kitchen sink, she grabbed the cat's cage with the other hand, racing out the front door of her apartment. I followed, switching off the stereo with a flick.
"Let's go find our constellations," she said, smiling that smile of hers that made you wonder if you'd ever be happy again.
I followed her, trying to fit the feeling of worry back down my throat.
Points: 25558
Reviews: 347
Donate