I wrote this short story out of pure boredom.
© C.J. Avila
™ February 2016
All rights reserved.
~
I woke up to the sound of rushing vehicles, cars honking and people chattering in chorus at the streets, or should I say down the streets. This, I considered, is my alarm clock everyday. Somehow, in between thinking of what or what not to do today, I ended up almost falling asleep again. I heave out a sigh, stifle an upcoming yawn and rub sleep off my eyes. I realize just then that my room is still dark so, with a grunt, I stand up and went to draw the curtains open. For a second, I was blinded by the sunlight as it enters my room. I squinted my eyes and took a glance at the neighboring building, which is a condominium building. Its glass windows shining brightly due to reflecting the light from the sun.
It's a nice view, alright. I thought to myself.
Looking down, Fifth Avenue is already jammed with tons of cars and thousands of people. The apartment building where I reside is 30 storey high and I'm lucky to have my aunt as the owner so I got this wonderful apartment, located at the 29th floor, with a picturesque view of the city.
It's a wonderful life. I thought again to myself.
To start my day, I went to the bathroom to prepare myself for the events that's to happen later on.
Brush my teeth, check.
Take a bath, check.
Get dressed, check.
After ticking everything off my head, I checked myself out in the full-length rectangular mirror at the other side of the room. My dressing room used to be a mini-recording studio from it's previous tenant but I immediately asked my aunt permission, which she agreed into, if I could renovate it to be my dressing room, considering I have no use for a studio.
It's the same size as the bedroom. Once you open the door, the first thing you'll ever see is yourself standing across from it. The other side is where the mirror is positioned. Corner to corner. Ceiling to floor. Just like those you see in a dance studio.
At the right side of the room is a closet full of my clothes of different kinds, of different colors but it mainly consists of black, white and gray. To the left is where my shoe closet stood. It covers half of that side and has a variety of shoes, ranging from flip-flops to sandals to sneakers to rubber shoes to boots and to high heels. Beside it is where my make-up table is positioned, though I rarely use it. The only pieces of make-up I have is an eyeliner, mascara, lip gloss, ChapStick, lipstick and two shades of eye shadow; black and silver. Simple but awesome.
My thoughts of awesomeness got interrupted when my phone started ringing from the bedroom, Jake Miller blasting through its speaker. I check my dress if it fits me nicely one final time, grab my high-heeled ankle boots and went to answer my phone.
A picture of a very familiar and pretty brunette flashed from the caller's ID. It's Damienne, my best friend. I put it on speaker and answered.
"Damienne." I say formally, no Hi's, no Hello's.
"Flora!" She yelled at the other line. Now that's the reason I always answer her calls in speaker.
