Little Stairs to Nowhere

Chapter 5 - Waiters with Cute Butts & and Dark Aesthetic Girls that Blush

I pull the covers over my head more as I hear my alarm going off. It doesn't stop, so I flip the covers over being hit with the cold air of the room.

"Holy shit." I pull the covers back over me in attempt to regain some warmth I had that was ruthlessly stolen from me. Groaning and rolling towards the clock, I hit it to stop going off. Pissed that I forgot to turn it off for the weekend, I pull the covers over my head in an attempt to go back to sleep.

Ten minutes of staring at the ceiling go by before I decide to finally wake up because any hope for going back to sleep is lost. Pulling my strap back up to my shoulder, I straighten my tank top before standing up.

The drapes are pulled closed, making the room look dark despite how much light should be in the room given the time of day. I rub my eyes and pull my hair in its usual half up half down style. As I stretch the elastic, it snaps, flinging somewhere in the dimly lit room.

"Guess I'm not putting my hair up right now," I mumble not bothering to even look for the damn thing. Not like it'll serve any purpose now anyway. I push myself up off the bed as a chill runs through me. I walk across the wood floor, making sure to step over the scattered clothes so I don't slip. Walking over to mirror in the corner, I pull a grey knitted cardigan off one of three hooks from the wall to the right of the mirror and slip it over my shoulders. Walking back to my bed, I pick up my watch and read the digital face as it says 7:48. Groaning once more I rub my eyes.

I'm assuming that I have slightly discoloured eye bags due to my lack of sleep, but when I look in the mirror I don't really see anything. Granted, it's hard to really see in the dark room, but I'd rather pretend I don't look like a zombie.

Leaving my room the hallway is almost equally as dark, although there is a little bit of light coming from downstairs. Heading down the dark wooden stairs, there's more light than I expected. Stepping off the last step, I walk past the living room, into the small galley kitchen.  I pick up my glass kettle from the right side of the kitchen counter and turn behind me to fill it with water from the sink. After filling it enough to fill one cup, I turn back to the other wall and set the kettle on its electric plate pressing the on switch. While that heats up I choose a mug with Captain America's shield on the front and set it on the counter.

Walking over the the little table at the end of the kitchen I look out the tall rectangular window and sit down. Outside, the little bit of grass that fills the backyard is overgrown and easily seen as unused. There used to be a small play set against the garage, but it was donated long ago, leaving the lot looking quite empty except for the cement patio and the small deck that takes up a third of the yard.

The kettle whistles and I choose a lemon tea from my tea cabinet before shutting off the burner. Reaching for the kettle, I place the tea bag into my mug and pour the hot water over it. Bringing it back to the small table, I let it steep while I look out the window once more. There isn't much to see since the tall privacy fences on both sides of the yard obstruct any views of the neighbors or their yards. I could probably hear the birds and the wind if I went outside, but it's too cold and there's no reason to be outside when there's nothing out there.

I turn to the fridge behind me and get up to get some creamer for my tea. The only sound in the small kitchen is the sound of the fridge humming, and every now and then you can hear some birds from outside. Since it's getting colder, less birds have been coming around, and soon enough they won't be able to be heard at all.

I tap my fingers rhythmically on the tabletop and sip my tea every now and then. I grabbed some scones from the counter that I picked up earlier this week and munch on them. The early morning looks gloomy with grey clouds and no sun in sight. After finishing my tea and rinsing the cup, I head back upstairs hoping to get a nap in at the very least. My eyes feel heavy, but I can't tell if it's from sleep or stress. The cool floor feels good as I walk down the hallway and through the only door on the left side of the hallway.