Chapter 5- The Assignment (pic of Mr. Doboure)

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Here is chapter 5!! sorry it is kinda late:/ i hope yall like it:) i dedicate this to dreamygurl. Here is the assignment finally!

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     I awoke with my face headfirst in my pillow, all of yesterday’s event were in a fog to me. Sitting up with a start, I could only imagine what I would look like. Sliding off the bed I went into the bathroom. I. Looked. Like. A. Mess. I had lines on my face from the pillow and don’t let me get started about my hair. Looking around in the cabinets I located some face toilettes.   

     Throwing away the wipes I realized I needed to catch up on my work out routine. Finding my bag in front of my bed, I dragged it over to the closet. Opening it up I stared at it in amazement. The closet was already full with, what looked to be, designer clothing. Pulling out a plain black shirt, I made a purpose of checking the brand. Prada. Snazzy.

     I pulled the shirt on and then located some red shorts. Finding an amazing pair of running shoes, I went to grab my iPod.  I made sure it was still charged then I went downstairs to try and locate the gym.

     I jogged into the kitchen, still marveling how good the black running shoes were. Still jogging, I ran up behind a dark haired guy that was fixing a sandwich.

     “Pierre right?” I said with a questioning tone.

     I must have startled him, because after I uttered those words he dropped the knife. Acting fast I stooped down to catch the knife before it had a chance to clatter to the floor.

     “Yes, not really a good first introduction,” he said with a embarrassed chuckle.

     “Let’s start over,” he extended his hand to me talking in a thick Italian accent; “I am Pierre the cook of this lovely abode.

     “Annalise, but most call me Anna,” I returned the hand shake.

     “Well Anna what can I help you with?” As he said this he grabbed a rag to clean his hands off with.

     “If you don’t mind, I was wondering if you could tell me where the gym would be located.”

     “I can do much better; I can show you.”

     He threw the rag on top of the counter then he put his hand on the middle of my back ushering me forward. We walked down many hallways and had fallen into a nice conversation. It turned out he was actually a newly turned twenty-eight year old, a lot younger than I thought he was. He told me about his two little sisters and a brother that lived back in Italy, who he sent money to every month. We ended at a door that was at the side of the house which Pierre opened for me.

     The sun startling me making me shield my eyes, you usually see clouds and darkness on the mountain at school. Pierre waited for my eyes to adjust also, which I thought was nice of him. Finally lowering my hand I gave him a sheepish smile.

     “It takes a while to get used to,” he said to make me feel better.

     “I don’t think anything about this place I will get used to,” I said shaking my head in a ‘no way’ way.

     Shaking his head and holding a grin, Pierre ushered me forward some more until we walked to a building detached from the house. He opened this door for me too and the shooed me forward. The room had about two of everything with flat screens lined up on the wall. I walked up to the treadmill and stroked its glossy finish. Everything about it screamed expensive the glossy frame, touch screen functions, and touching the start button I checked to make sure, oh yes soundless performance.

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