copyright Anie Michaels 2015 Subject to change.
Releasing 4/7/2015
An incessant buzzing, accompanied by an irritating beeping,
pulled me out of a dead sleep, which had only been brought on by vodka and
chocolate. I groaned, but rolled over
slowly, blindly reaching around for my phone.
When my fingers finally found it, I peeped one eye open, painfully, but
all I could see was the dark veil created by my raven hair. I used my hand to sweep it aside and managed
to swipe my finger over the screen of my phone, bringing it to life.
That was the fourth
morning my alarm had woken me up. It was
a residual alarm left over from my previous life. It used to be the alarm that would remind me
every morning to take my birth control pill.
It was now the alarm that reminded me to not drown in my current pool of
self-pity and hatred. I didn’t have any
birth control pills to take. I, in fact,
didn’t have anything with me aside from the clothes on the floor I’d been
wearing when I fled from my life, the groceries I’d thought to buy before I’d
checked into this motel, and my purse.
I was a mess. I’d been in this bed for the majority of the
last four days and I felt it. Up until now, I’d not felt the need or want to
change my situation. I’d wanted to stay
in bed forever, sleep as long as the vodka would let me, and try desperately
not to deal with the catastrophe I’d left behind. But I hadn’t left it behind; it seemed to
have followed me here and was now seeping back in. Reality.
Reality was a
bitch.
I groaned again as
I moved off the bed, flinging the scratchy comforter off my body, and swinging
my legs over the edge of the mattress.
“Holy fucking
crap,” I whispered to nobody but myself.
I rubbed a hand over my face, my nose crinkling up at the gross
condition of my skin. I needed a
shower. More than I needed anything
ever, I needed a shower.
I ambled through
the small motel room and found the bathroom. Switching the faucet on, I waited
for the water to heat. When it was as
hot as I could stand, I pulled the stopper up and watched the water fall like
rain.
I
climbed in, letting the harsh, hot water pelt me, stinging all the way down to
my feet. I went about the business of
washing the grime from my body. The tiny bottles I’d had the thought to buy at
the grocery store weren’t enough to last very long, but it was enough for
now. As I washed my body, I held my
cries in. I’d managed not to cry up
until now, and I didn’t intend to ever cry over Derrek or Preston.
