It was like she had some form of Stockholm Syndrome. She would do anything and everything to protect him, even if it meant risking her safety and own life in the process.
Head throbbing, I squeeze my eyes tight, grimacing.
Ah, hangovers. Such holy pains in the ass.
I regret it. I regret a lot of things, but I especially regret drinking yesterday.
It didn't help me. Not at the least. In fact, I'd say it made things even worse, if that was even possible.
I walk into the kitchen, searching through the medicines in the cabinets, which half of them I didn't even know the name of, to find the ibuprofen which I take two tablets of before opening the fridge to get the jug of cold water. Placing the items on the bench, I find a glass and pour some water into it.
Condensation surrounds the glass within a minute, and I feel the coolness on my fingertips as I grasp it, chugging a fair amount as I attempt to swallow the tablets.
I've never been good at taking tablets. The foul taste day horrible on my taste buds, and I could never quite swallow it, however, when it came to these horrible, throbbing headaches, I I knew I had to do what needed to be done. Even if it meant downing tablets.
I can't quite point q finger at what happened yesterday. My mind is and always will be a mess, and yet I could have sworn I saw him. I was so sure... Until he vanished.
But where was there for him to have disappeared to if he really did vanish? No - I can't think too much about this. It's dangerous. And besides, it was probably my mind playing tricks on me.
Maybe I should go out. I could catch a coffee or something at a café somewhere, or perhaps see an old friend. I feel like I've lost touch of the real world, and I haven't seen anyone lately. Maybe that's a good idea.
I head back to my bedroom and take out a pile of clothes. I pick out a white top which reaches just above my navel, high-waisted black pants, brown boots and a peach-coloured trench coat (a/n see below).
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I apply a light amount of makeup, adding a neutral lipstick to my lips to complete my look.
Whilst I don't want to overdo my whole look, I still want to appear somewhat normal. People can't know of how I've been within the past few days. If they did, I would end up further isolating myself from the world.
I don't do much with my hair, only brushing it to get rid of knots and allowing it to cascade over my shoulders and down my back.
I throw on a pair of sunglasses, pick up my purse and phone, lock the door and begin walking to my local café.
The air is crisp, and I feel my skin adorn with goosebumps. I wrap the trench coat further around my body, attempting to attract some more warmth.
The café is around 800m away from my house, so whilst it isn't much of a walk, I still have enough time to think to myself - not that I haven't had enough time to think already.
