Stimulate

Chapter 4 : Waking Up, Again

Fey's POV

Sunlight shines through the blinds like a ghoul's grin, yet gives the shutters a halo of golden rays. That's the new morning, sinner and saint, just like me. Waking up is a hammer swung, a painted "x" on my skull. Sleep drags me backward until a new thought can penetrate. I have the chance to achieve more than yesterday if I move now. The bed is cold and soft, yet my feet swing outward onto the fluffy carpet.

I turn looking toward the empty space. It carries less weight than my heart, she left me.

I pouted and proceeded to wrap her sheets around my body. They have that light hint of honey to them, such a sweet scent. I really wish I'd see her walk through that dim closet, just to give me a kiss good bye. I didn't even get that.

She could've woken me up!
Alex come back. Take me with you, please.

I shuffle my way out of the room of solitary. I enter her kitchen, prying at the metal handle to her fridge.

Nothing good. Alex has a bunch of healthy crap, apples, cucumbers, lettuce like five kinds, who needs five kinds of lettuce! Etc etc geez it's like a gym rat's heaven.

I snatch four cheese sticks and her milk. Hip bumping the door shut I walk toward her pantry. Putting the stuff I had collected from the fridge down on the counter didn't pass my mind. As I stand balancing a box of granola on my shoulder I just realize I can't hold everything, however, I proceed to take a loaf of bread with my pinky and ring finger.

I want my food damn it. I can't fathom two trips for anything right now.

I eventually waddle toward the granite island in her kitchen. The items peel off my body and clatter to the beautifully shiny surface. The smooth black surface is littered with cookies, granola, bread, cheese, milk, fruit roll ups, and jam.

The plan is simple. Don't judge.

Grilled cheese, with granola and cookies drowning in milk including a fruit roll up straw. Oh, the jam? I just like to eat jam, it's strawberry. I like strawberries. Yummy. No wonder people can't believe my age, I sound like a fucking child sometimes.

It's hard to convince people you're twenty-two with eight gallons of chocolate milk in your tiny fridge and some chocolate chip cookies stashed randomly around your house.

I collect a pan and a medium sized bowl from the cupboard. I slather butter across the pan. I drop to eye level to chant.

"Melt, melt, melt, melt, melt, melt, melt, melt come on mama wants some grilled cheese." Yes, I spent a minute and a half watching butter melt. I have absolutely nothing to do today.

I work Mondays, Tuesdays, early Wednesdays, and late Fridays. I'm so glad Alex's schedule doesn't clash as much with mine. Granted my pastel lover really doesn't have to work, her mom pays for almost everything so she doesn't leave the city. Alex is very independent, though, as much as she can be.

"Fucker!" I flinched, flying back to steady myself on the island. Melted butter flew from the pan and hit my eye. I'm so stupid! "Owie, owie, owwww!"

I shove the handle of the sink up and drag out the detachable hose. The cool water is held to my burning eye. Relief from the pain washes over me, literally. Although water is dripping down my shirt soaking it completely, I really could care less right now. I'll just borrow another shirt from Alex.

Soaked and hungry, what more could go wrong right now? I'm very grouchy, ok? I don't have my Alex or my food yet. This is torture! I fling the bread stuffed with cheese to the pan. I stop the flowing water, my eye should be fine now. I peer at the small mirror above the sink, my eye is not as red as I assume it was originally, the pain stopped, I should be fine.