Emma

Chapter 1:

Rays of sunlight danced around the carpet. A warm glow radiated through the curtains and it filtered through the patterns of the drape, landing on my carpet as my eyelids opened. My vision was obscure, but I could just make out an empty bottle of vodka lying sideways on the floor next to my sombody who right now, I didn't recognise. I swung my legs over the bed and pushed the sheets up from under me. My head hurt and my mouth tasted like alcohol. I scanned the room quiclkly in an attempt to identify where I was and my somach flipped as I recognised the white curtians as my own. This was my apartment, and it's trashed. Now that my retna had come into a sharper focus I could make out the vomit streaks and smokes lying on the carpet. My landlord comes in a week. Great. Why did this happen? I hate gatherings of people, and parties, and social events of any kind. I drink alone, I smoke alone, I live alone. I don't know what happened last night but I'm really not looking forward to seeing the rest of the flat.

The rest of my apartment is surprisingly clean. It seems the only person I had over was that guy passed out on the floor of my room, who I still haven't bothered to wake up. Since my last attempt at ending my life people kinda removed themselves from my life and pissed off; that includes family. At first I was absolutly devestated, but the few who stayed helped me through and gathered the pieces of my self esteem as well as building it up until I could actually get out of bed in the mornings to make some coffee and look out over my balcony without wanting to throw myself off it. When I was sane enough to call my parents they told me I'd been taken over by the devil or something. So I guess you could say I don't  feel obligated to attend church on sundays anymore. My whole family is heavily religious, thus when I first attempted in my third year of highschool I was tormented for years after by priests and bible bashers trying to 'save' my soul. Little did my family realize that 'saint' of a priest was touching me up every sunday night for four years after I broke my silence. They of course, didn't believe me, scolded me then sent me off to bed.

My whirpool of reccollection was all at once interrupted by footsteps down the hall. A face emerged sporting messy brown curly hair, dark brown stubble, and tired eyes. The corners of my mouth stretched out into a smile only Josh can bring. He was there was no one else was. I will never forgive them for leaving me.

I raise my eyebrows in question and he reads my mind.

"You needed me last night Em, you were pretty wasted and chain smoking. Oh and if youre wondering its your vomit on the carpet"

"I dont even remember" I sighed stretching out my arms and pulling them up above my head and past my back past my shoulders.

"I've never seen you like that before Em. I haven't seen you in ages and when I got here I was so fucking scared you would drop dead. The amount of weight you've lost.." He trailed off and studied my body.

I sipped my coffee and let it slide down my throat and warm my insides before I finished the conversation. "Let's go get some breakfast Joshy"

He nodded and gave me a quick smile before using one hand to gesture I walk out the door.