cigarette | h.s

chapter 10 | observations

the song for this chapter is Lay in Bed by After a Night of Unsettling Dreams :)

Greyson

It's been two weeks since everything happened: the argument with my mother, enduring two panic attacks in the span of a couple hours in one day, and whatever the situation with Harry was.

I haven't felt like myself, I've been waking up, going to work, then coming back home, day after day. Mentally, I'm exhausted and am not doing good. I haven't wanted to socialize with anyone, not wanted to sleep due to nightmares, or even eat. I feel like the days are just repeating themselves and I don't feel anything. The nightmares I've been having started the night after I got drugged, all of them consisting of what could have happened if Harry hadn't been there to save me. I hate saying that I needed saved, but I truly did. If it wasn't for him, I might not even be here right now, better yet, in a worse stage than I already am. Iris has been trying to help me, she stays with me at night to try and calm my nerves down when I wake up screaming in a cold sweat, she tries to get me to eat, and is just all around being an angel; she doesn't need to help me, she wants to. Not to mention, Phoenix's anniversary of his death is coming up quickly. What Iris doesn't know is it's causing me to feel lower, I've been crying in the shower when I'm alone to avoid her comfort. She knows that it's affecting me, which is why she's been there for me so much.

It's June 24 at 9 a.m. and right now, I'm getting ready to do the same thing I've been doing: going to work. I put on a simple red crop top, cutoff shorts, and my black converse, grabbing a cream cardigan to thrown on throughout the day if I get cold. I brushed through my eyebrows with eyebrow gel, curled my eyelashes and put on mascara, and put on red toned cream blush, also putting it on my lips to add a tint. I say bye to Iris, leaving the apartment, having enough time to grab myself a coffee from the café next to the bookstore that was once was a nice place to spend my breaks that is now only associated with negative connotations. Despite my feelings, I ordered my usual, a hot black coffee and a blueberry muffin, tipping the worker before going next door to open the shop.

The day goes by slow, a few regulars coming in and looking at the newest shipment of books, only some actually buying books. Working often, I tend to notice little things about the regulars. My favorites are the little old woman, the middle-aged man, and the mother and daughter that always come in. The little old woman who always is wearing pearls and a vintage dress, always buys a mystery book and reads the synopsis multiple times out loud before buying it. The middle-aged man with a beard who wears glasses and his grey hair showing more whenever he comes in, always buys poetry. The mom who comes in with her daughter who is no older than eight, always goes to the kid's section and buys a book about animals. She always tells me how she wants to be a zoologist when she's older, I always give her a lollipop for free from the counter, the mother always insisting on giving me the dollar it costs, but I always deny it.

Once the most recent customer leaves, I go to the back of the store, getting a bottle of water and my most recent book, hearing the bell of the door ring, "Hello?" I hear as I get back to the main part of the shop, getting meet with a mailman, "Are you Greyson Emerson?" He speaks up after reading from the letter with a kind smile on his face, I shake my head yes, him giving me the letter and exiting the shop.

I open the letter, my face and any mood I was in immediately falling when I read the words Charity Auction in Dedication to Phoenix Emerson in bold letters at the top of the letter, it being an invite to the event I was told I was not getting invited to. I start to read it, getting more frustrated and angrier as I go on.