Blade (Watty Awards 2013)

Chapter 21

Chapter 21-

Life got quieter in the next couple days. I somewhat fell into a routine. Stay in bed until Georgia bothers me about eating breakfast, long hot shower- there is something comfortable about feeling the weight of the water drag on my clothes. I'd let the tub fill and allow my heavy clothes to drag me under the best it could. Redress, draw my curtains shut again because Georgia has a habit of opening them, then back in bed. I only wait till late at Night to visit Cynthia. To let her voice hush me to sleep with the help on sweet alcohol. The thing is like heaven. That's what my days consists of now. It works for me. I mean, staying in bed all day is never horrible.

***

I literally hug my toilet in the morning. Everything was too bright and ever noise to damn loud.

Bids chirping and stupid shit. What the actual fuck do they have to be happy about? Don't peck my window you little bastards. Their lives consist of pooping on people's cars, singing, and eatting worms. Totally carefree, so that's a good reason to be happy I guess. But at 6:00 in the morning, seriously?

I groan and lay beside my toilet.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Chirp. Chirp.

I put my hands over my ears. How could something that should be pleasant like bird chirping be so awful? It's loud and annoying and does nothing to help my pounding head.

Here's what I've learned: drinking is good until thou is hungover a toilet at 6:00 am.

This was the bad part. I cringe and hug my knees to my chest.

I hate this part but to every heaven is an hell right?

***

"Lilly are you alright?" georgia asks me when she enters my room for breakfast. I try my best not to stagger and fall over on my face as I search for my bed.

I nod my head.

"I didn't think you were coming down...so I prepared something- again. Are you sure you're alright?" i crawl back under my covers, praying she'll leave soon. I swear she knows what I've been doing and speaking so loudly is her idea of punishing me.

The tray she places beside me is set up just like my spot at the table.

Fork. Bowl. Empty space. Orange juice, water, pills.

Again with the missing knife. I clutch my finger in together, the spot is just so empty, what am I suppose to put there? Am I suppose to just stare at it?

"where is my knife?" I ask lowly. Georgia pauses.

"what was that?" I frown and repeat my self, loud enough to make my head pound a little harder.

"WHERE is my KNIFE?" then I moan a lay my head down on my pillow. Why are they trying to irritate me? Don't they know I need a knife as much as they do?

"You know you're not allowed to have one anymore Lilly. Please stop with the ridiculous questions." I growl. "besides, you don't need a knife to eat pancakes. You could just as easily cut them with a fork."

"Please, don't encourage her Georgia." Mom says appearing by my doorway. "Don't want her getting any ideas." she scowls at me.

Georgia clears her throat then nods, moving from my side.

"Lillian try and eat something. You have a therapy session today...along with your mother." she gulps, like she was fearing having to say that aloud. Mom rolls her eyes and begins to cuss. I don't blame her. Therapy is not something I enjoy. Especially not with my head hurting so bad.