With love, your dearest hater

Chapter 7 (Past)

When I wake up the next morning, I have a plunging headache. As I try to stand up, my feel my head heavy as hell, begging me to return to the laying down position. I do as my body tells me. Staring at the ceiling, I feel my blurry vision slowly getting back to normal. Adjusting to the light coming out of the windows in front of the bed. Then it hits me. I have absolutely no ideia where I am.

I'm laying down on top of a towel still wearing yesterday's clothes. Ok that's reassuring, nothing too bad happened. There's a blood stain on my jumpsuit and I notice a bandage around my sore hand. It's been somehow cleaned and taken care of. It doesn't hurt as much as it should, I conclude lifting the bandage a little to have a look on the damage.

YES! I remember now, the glass shattered on my hand, when I saw the cut I passed out. I have never, never been too good around blood, it's a weakness that I have no way of knowing how to get rid of. I finally manage to sit up on the bed and I have a look around, trying to understand where I am. In a swift move, I instantly hurry to the door and lock it, I have no ideia if I am in dangerous or not, damage control mode is on.

With the door locked, I move around the room, looking for my purse. I need to get to my phone, call Annie and have her pick me up from wherever this is. Looking around I locate it right next to the bed on the nightstand. Right next to it there's a glass of water and some Advil. Under the phone I find a handwritten note. I take the Advil and start reading.

"Hi

You passed out on my living room.

Didn't know who to call.

Door's unlocked.

Dave"

Oh. So I am still at the apartment. Ok, least I know where I am. But who's Dave? I don't remember meeting anyone with that name yesterday. I'm not ready to face him, whoever he is. This is absolutely too shameful. I feel like trash and probably smell like it too. But I can't just leave, this guy saved my life. Not to be dramatic, but it could have been a lot worse. Passed out drunk and injured in public? I literally knew no one other than Annie, and later of course Mikey, at that party. I wonder what happened after I passed out. Better, after some random dude knocked the glass right out of my hands.

Still not ready to face him, I just look around the room, snooping inside the drawers. Everything is so neat and clean. The bed is large, extremely comfortable. I wonder how much it costs to have a mattress like this. The sheets are so comfy, the texture is so soft, the type of sheets that are always fresh and cold. Even the towel I slept over feels like a million dollars.

The whole room is covered with the same dark wood from the rest of apartment. Something that really draw my attention, because that's how I would picture the floors on my dream house. There's a big nude rug extending from under the bed, again so soft. The whole wall in front of the bed is made of glass, dreamy view of the city. At the corner there's an armchair and a lamp that grows tall from the ground up, I would just crawl up in that space with a warm beverage and a good book on a rainy Sunday. This room is everything I would've wanted it to be, comfy and fresh. A safe haven.

But I digress. I have to get out there. I need to express my gratitude to whoever this Dave guy is, he saved my life. He let a stranger sleep on his apartment. I go to the bathroom annexed to the bedroom to fresh up a little bit. But this time the headache is slowing fading away, the Advil finally starts kicking in. When I look in the mirror I realized I was right, I look as shitty as I felt. I do my best to at least look presentable.

I get back to the room and sit down at the bed once again. I take another look at the note in disbelief. This guy. When I see my phone screen light up, I get reminded how nobody knows where I am, Annie must be crazy looking for me. 34 lost calls from her number. Multiple text messages. Starting at 10am, so her night was probably good. She calls me once more and I pick up.