Please don't eat me!

AN- Hey to anybody who reads this, and thank you in advance! It's my first story so please go easy on me! Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think.

I need to shout out to two amazing editors; @SpankThatAss and @Ihavenoidea!!! Thank you again! 

P.S- Please don't laugh at my poor excuse for a cover, I tried okay! :P Anyway, enjoy!! :)

My eyes blinked rapidly against the streams of sunlight piercing through the blinds. Morning, who on earth liked mornings? They’re the worst things in history, especially because I‘d spent the night before drinking until I passed out.  

I always tell myself I’m never drinking like that again, but I never seem to follow through.

I was definitely feeling the full effect of my hangover this morning.

I sat up slowly; rubbing at my aching eyes as the room came into focus. My stomach twisted and I resisted the urge to throw up everywhere. The black dots faded from my vision and the room came into focus.   

I gasped. Oh fuck! I twisted in my spot to check all around me.

My flat had been trashed. There were red cups, used, and crushed, scattered everywhere. My poor T.V was hanging half way off and half way on its stand. I looked up to see a pair of socks dangling from my lamp shade, and in the corner of the room there was a blown up zebra wearing a pair of pants, which for the record, were not mine. To make matters even sillier, the zebra had a pink moustache scribbled on its upper lip with a pink marker.  

This was crazy!

I stood up and ran a shaky hand through my long chestnut hair. It looked like a bin and a laundry basket had thrown up all over the room.

I was so going to kill all of my so called mates, who seemed to have vacated the building fairly quickly. How nice of them, leaving me to clean up after their mess.

I tip toed my way out of the living room and into my small kitchen. I was horrified to see it in a similar state. It was going to take me all day to clear their mess away, and I had work to get too as well!

Trying my best to ignore the pigsty state around me, I grabbed a glass of water and an aspirin for my pounding headache.

I took a seat at the dining room table, brushing red cups from the cushion; I then slowly rested my head on the cold table’s surface. I groaned, as I pouted pathetically to myself. No one else was feeling sorry for me, so I decided to feel sorry for myself.

I hoped I wasn’t getting sick. I needed to work for the money and from recent reports of the flu epidemic plaguing the city; I wouldn’t be working again for at least a couple of weeks if I did catch the flu.

I briefly closed my saphire blue eyes, as a wave of nausea hit me once again, but my peacefulness was soon disturbed by a very loud, and very annoying buzzing sound. I sighed, and lifted my head, searching around for the source of the disturbance. I soon spotted my phone, resting in an empty pickle jar on the kitchen counter.