A Way to Pass Time

6

Ch. 6

My fear turned to anger, then my anger turned into fury and frustration. Ignoring the stares of Kale and the old man who were both staring at me, I stomped on the ivory card that had fluttered to the ground like a broken butterfly.

They haven't contacted me in three years. THREE FUCKING YEARS. Stomp. Not one phone call. Stomp. Not one letter. Stomp. They kick me to the curb without a backwards glance and three hellish years pass and no word from them. Nothing, zip, not one word from them.

I ground my foot into the dirty metal staircase, the thing groaning and shuddering under my foot.

The first thing they send me in three years and it's a demand. Not one question of concern for their only daughter that they kicked out of their damned fancy, pantsy house and lifestyle. And they thought I'd come willingly? Ha! What a joke.

My parents had always been full of themselves so it didn't surprise me at the audacity of their card to me. Things happened, words were said and then I was out on the streets. All because I couldn't be what they wanted.

Damn them to hell. Stomp. Damn them to hell. Grind. Damn. Them. To. Hell.

I knew it would be a stupid thing to do by ripping the card up like a child would do. Okay, so stepping on the thing is childish too, but I couldn't help it. Bending down, I picked up the dirty piece of paper and shoved it in my pocket to look at later. I turned to go upstairs to do just that when a hand clamped down on my wrist.

Crap. I had forgotten Kale was still there. I turned to him and he flinched. I don't blame him though because I probably had murder written all over my face.

"Wait, Hannah."

I waited. And when he said nothing, I wrenched my hand away from his Golden grip and I couldn't stand it anymore. A hermit was a hermit because they didn't like human interaction and tried to stay away from it by all means possible. Obviously I wasn't meant for a hermit life. Especially when people keep on butting into my life.

I slammed the door to my apartment door and slid to the dusty floor, burying my face in my hands. This was just not my day. Or week. Or month.

Damn, it was cold. I got up, turned on the heater and sat on the kitchen chair and looked out the window. I watched Kale's retreating figure into the icy world. Taking out the offending card, I examined it closer. The writing was nothing more than scribbles. The only way I could read it was when I squinted really hard.

Sighing, I picked up the nearest book and shoved the card between the pages. I couldn't bring myself to throw it away for some reason. I flung the book away and it hit the wall then tumbled to the ground. There was nothing to do in the apartment except to stare at the walls.

I'm tired of looking at blank walls though. So I took a black marker that was sitting next to a stack of blank papers and dragged the chair to the wall for me to stand on. I had no money to buy colorful paint, so I decided to paint the walls with words. Starting from the very top left hand corner, I made my way across the surface until I came to the corner and started on the next wall so the words wrapped around the room.

Time seemed to stop and I lost myself in the words I wrote. I had forgotten what it was like to write. A feeling of peace and comfort. I hardly recognized the fact that the sun was coming up and that I had been up all night writing. I think I wrapped around all the walls in the apartment three times.

I didn't mind the ache in my back and arms from standing so long, nor did I care about the exhaustion I felt because now I had something to do. Something to pass the time.