Alone and Lonely

Chapter one: pizza

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"What's the number for the pizza place?" I asked my grandmother who was dazed into her new reading material she had picked up when we went to the mall earlier.
"It's on the fridge, honey." She said, monotone & waving her hand at me in dismissal.
I walk over to the fridge & find the number hanging on the slick two door silver fridge by a thread of tape. I read the numbers out loud as I dial.

Ring.....ring....
"Pizza planet, Dean speaking. Would you like to hear about our specials?" The guy over the phone sounded like a teenager. So I dropped my usual voice I would use with older people if they were answering my call. Because, whatever.
"No thanks. I just wanted to get a large mushroom pizza with a side of breadsticks & a tub of cookie dough." I said, completely blah because it had been a long day & all I wanted was my damn pizza so I could sit in my bed eating & scrolling through my dash on Tumblr.
"Sure thing, that will be 20 dollars. Will you be picking this up. Or would you like delivery?" Dean the pizza guy asked me politely. Psh, I have to wonder how a real conversation would be with this guy. Obviously he has to be nice to the customers.
"Delivery. My address is 1361 cranberry lane." I said. God could this take any longer? I seriously had no patients.
"Alrighty expect us in a half hour. If we take longer your order is free." Oh dean, you robot of a guy, I can hear your fake kindness crystal clear. I smirked.
I muttered a thank you and hung up as quickly as possible. A half an hour, huh? I could do a lot of things in a half hour . Netflix? No. Tumblr? No, I'd rather do that on my computer while I am eating. I reserve one hand for pizza one hand for the down arrow on my keyboard & reblogging. Technique is key. I decided I would finish the art project that I had started earlier that day. A painting of a unicorn. Boredom can do dumb things to a person. It was coming out well. My grandmother likes me art, not in a way that any parent or guardian HAS to. She REALLY & TRULY likes it. She's also a fan of constructive criticism. If something doesn't look right to her in my art work she would tell me. That's one of the little things I loved about her.

Grandma Meredith has been my guardian since I was just 5 years old after my mother & father decided they couldn't handle me. My mother was insane. Not in a loony bin kinda way. But she was big into drugs. It's hard to feel bad for someone when they aren't even someone you recognize. I have never witnessed her as a normal hard working person. My grandmother said she was beautiful as a teenager. Had boys on the doorstep with flowers 24/7. Then she had a fall out. My grandfather passed away when my mother was my age, 17. My mom & him were close. Closer then my mom and my grandmother. My mom decided she was depressed & started hanging out with the wrong people, dropped out, & met a girl named Molly. Molly is a drug. MDMA to be exact. Ecstasy can give you nausea, chills, sweating, involuntary teeth clenching, muscle cramping, & blurred vision. Rehab never worked for this woman. She was too far gone to save, is what my grandmother said. You could tell she was broken hearted of what her beautiful daughter had become. It was a sad tragedy. I wouldn't end up that way. I couldn't. At least for grandma. As for my dad. I never met him. I don't know his name. My mom went out & got pregnant at 19 & refused to tell anyone who by. It's a sad life with out the love of a father. But I've learned to cope because I don't know how it would be with a father. Not much if a loss for a figure that dropped off the face of the Earth at the thought of having a kid like me. I never thought of these things. This was my life. I was okay with it. I was use to it.

I finished my painting and hung it on a string if white christmas lights I had strung across the far wall, across from my bed, of my room. I pinned it up with a clothes pin to allow it to dry before presenting it to my skeptical grandma.

I heard the door bell. PIZZA!!! I payed the guy at the door who had a name tag with the name, Patrick printed across it. I thanked him & ripped him a 10 & closed the door.
"Ooooooh my goodness." My grandmother said as she walked into the kitchen and opened the box on the island. I shoved the tub of raw cookie dough in the fridge for when I baked cookies later & opened the box of breadsticks. I grabbed two paper plates. Seeing as how this was a casual Sunday evening. I handed her one, she grabbed it with a smile and grabbed a piece & went into the living room to eat & either read or watch another episode of a soap opera she had recently started on Netflix . Considering it was Sunday night & not a week day we didn't eat together. We saw each other all day & we decided to have alone time to ourselves . During the week we usually are together on account if busy schedules intertwining into a mess. Consistency wasn't a thing in this house hold. I put ranch dressing on my plate for my pizza and breadsticks and headed straight upstairs to find a sassy & whiny Vixen pawing at my door frame.
"Oh you silly kitty" I teased her & she meowed in response & I opened my door. Vixen instantly ran to her favorite little corner that had her little self made bed. She curled up & started napping. She was a very needy companion I swear! I turned my lamp on & my my christmas lights & sat on my bed & opened my laptop. Commence tumblr-pizza coordination technique.