Sanity is Just a State of Mind (18+_A Jeff the Killer fan fiction)

Chapter 2: A Day Like Any Other

Jessie's Point of View

The piercing sound of the alarm goes off. I lazily roll over and turn off the clock that sits on the nightstand next to the bed. 5:00am.

"Damn it," I mumble to myself. "I hate mornings."

Sitting up, I slide my legs over the edge of the bed and stand. I lift my arms high above my head arching my back and standing on my tiptoes. The muscles in my arms, legs, and back go into a deep stretch. Taking in a deep breath, I put my arms down as I exhale releasing my body from its long stretch. Now that I'm awake, it's time to get ready for work. Walking over to the dresser, I pull out a pair of straight legged blue jeans, a dark purple tee shirt, a bra, and a pair of half-calf socks. After getting dressed, I head to the bathroom to do my business, then brush out my long wavy brown hair, and braid it, letting it hang down the middle of my back ending just below my waist. Once done, I make my way to the kitchen. I throw two slices of bread in the toaster while I prepare eggs and bacon. When my food is ready, I make a cup of coffee with my single cup coffee maker. Sitting at the kitchen table, I quickly eat my breakfast, wash the dishes, and tidy up the kitchen. I go to the bathroom one last time to brush my teeth and wash my face. Heading into the living room, I grab my black combat style boots, sit on the sofa, slip them on, and tie the laces. I take my phone and wallet from the breakfast bar that separates the kitchen from living room and stuff them into my back pockets. As I walk out of the house, I take the keys hanging on the hook by the front door, lock the door behind me, and head to my red Jeep Wrangler.

I jump into the jeep and take off down the road toward Rogers Ranch where I work. As I'm driving down Main Street where I live, I listen to one of my favorite heavy metal bands blaring through the speakers. A few minutes later Main Street turns into Country Road 209 just outside the city limits. Rogers Ranch is on this road, making the commute very tolerable. Outside the city limits, I watch as the landscape passes by. Field after field of nothing but weeds, shrubs, and cactus as far as the eye can see, with a few live oak trees here and there. About fifteen minutes into the drive a barbed wire fence on the right comes into view indicating the start of the property of Rogers Ranch. A little way just before the entrance to the ranch on the left is the old Fletcher Farm that was established in the early 1900s. The farm has been abandoned for nearly eighty years. The county owns the property now and has left the old, desolated farmhouse as a historical landmark of a time forgotten.

I turn in the entrance of the ranch going over the cattle guard between the fence. Driving down a narrow gravel road for a short distance, I pull off to the left of the Rogers house and park. Its a few minutes before 6:30am. Perfect timing. I jump out of the jeep and head toward the house. Mr. Rogers, an older man in his late fifties, and the owner of the ranch, is waiting for me by the gate.

"Good morning, Miss Bowyn," he greets me in a cheery tone of voice.

"Good morning, Mr. Rogers," I replied respectfully.

"Okay, now with the formalities out of the way," he continues. "Nothing new today, just the same routine as usual."

"Okay, Mr. Rogers, I'll get started right away."

"Sounds good. Oh, and Jessie, dont be late for lunch today. You know how Mrs. Rogers gets." He warns with a smile.

I return his smile with one of my own. "Yes sir, I'll make sure I'm on time."

"Good, I'll leave you to it, then." He waves and heads to the house.

I continue to the barn. Once inside, I take off my combat boots and slip on my dusty, old, brown work boots. Walking over to the stables, I see Buck, Mr. and Mrs. Rogers son, waiting for me so we can start the day. Buck is a twenty-four-year-old man. He stands right at six feet tall. Of course, he towers over me, I'm only five foot two. He has medium length, messy, dirty blonde hair, dark blue eyes, and has a lean, muscular build from working the ranch most of his life. Hes like a big brother and is very protective over me. Of course, because he is like a brother, I always tease him, especially about his name. Buck Rogers. Like that old TV show, Buck Rogers in the 25th Century .