Sleeping With Death

One: Life's Apology

The sun lit up my white, messy room- Making everything look gold and innocent. I lie there motionless but my eyes were open. It sounded as if millions of birds were having a reunion outside of my window. This was my favorite time of day. Peaceful, motionless, and cold.

My eyes found the digital clock that sat on my dresser across the room. It was only six in the morning. I had time before going to work. Most days, I woke up around seven in the morning so it was sort of weird. Maybe life was planning to kill me today. Life had a way with making certain things happen to you. It made sure that you did certain things so that it could be amused. Who knows? Maybe we're Life's favorite reality show.

My body finally left the blankets that were caging it. Almost stumbling, I made my way to my dresser and found a purple, v-neck tank top and a black hoodie. I dug around for five minutes before finding my black skinnies. My neon green bra and panties were easy to find. I was too lazy to find matching socks so I grabbed a blue one and a pink one. I folded every piece of clothing and stacked them up neatly. I proudly picked up the pile and left the bedroom to go to the bathroom.

The stack was gently put down on my messy bathroom counter and I started the shower. I stripped my pajama clothes off and stepped into the shower. It wasn't a bath tub and shower combo. It was just a small stall in the corner of the bathroom with a shower head hanging in it.

I stood under the water. It was cold but my body got used to it by the time it became warm enough.

I love that feeling you get after taking a hot shower and stepping out of the bathroom. It felt like I was breathing brand new air. Is this how we felt when we were first born into this hideous world? When he died, I became angry and blamed my parents for creating me. Now I come to realize that they didn't know this was going to happen. Their life was great- According to them. They probably had the same expectations for me.

I dressed up and draped a dry towel around my neck and shoulders so my hair wouldn't get my tank top wet. I picked up my black hoodie and went into the kitchen. Throwing the hoodie on the couch, I walked over to the fridge and looked inside. The kitchen and living room was one room so it was fun to not need a dining room. My living room couch and coffee table became my dining room. Apparently, eating food and watching TV is unhealthy. Honestly, who cares?

My fridge was empty. On the door shelf, there was an almost empty container of Mountain Dew, and there was a bottle of ketchup and some kind of foreign sauce in a small bottle. The lower shelf inside the fridge had two cans of Miller lite beer and there was a bag of bagels next to it. I closed the fridge and opened the freezer portion of it.

Fish sticks.

I sat on the couch, devouring my fish sticks. Ketchup poured all over them. I had to go to work soon. I always came in at seven. It's not like Gregory cared. He was the boss but he never really did anything. Gregory only cared about his computer role playing games. That's all he ever talked about with the rest of the workers at Fancy Dollar. I was the only girl. I was stuck with four guys including Gregory. They were all in their late 40's and they lived with their parents or their grandparents.

When I finally came to work, they were all sitting behind one of the check out counters, flipping through Gregory's new edition of Game Informers magazine. There were two check out counters and one was apparently mine. The other one was for guys. They said it was their "man cave."

Gregory looked up at me when I came in. He had large glasses on and his hair was always greased up into tiny spikes on top of his head. He was over weight and looked like he didn't have a neck. He waved at me,"Hey Charlie."

"Hey..." I said, getting behind my counter. I watched them giggle like girls over something in the magazines,"Have we had any customers yet?"

Ricky looked up at me, he was bony and had dirty blond hair that was in a ponytail,"We had like old people come in here," He told me, rubbing his beard.