Speak Quietly

Chapter One- Alone

TheAlarmClockStartsToBlare…

My hand, like an automatic spring,

smashes

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on the contraption trying to make it shut up, but like every morning I have to get out of my miserable bed and find the button to properly do so.

I look up and see a room…

spinning...

I crash onto the floor but no worries fill my head, this is a regular occurring incident for me. The reason for my fall starts to taunt me, yelling for more and more of what is needed inside but I refuse. My malnourishment never wins over me, I just let the pain of an acid hurricane inside my stomach take over, I deserve it anyway.

My thoughts are interrupted by a sudden sensation of uncleanliness, so I get off the floor with a slight feeling of faintness to go do something much needed. I turn on the water to scorching hot and enter the pinkish seclusion, but not before disrobing and looking at myself in my cracked body mirror. I’m about as thick as a

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but I still think I can become skinnier. Anything is possible right?

Before the hot water runs out, I get in and feel the best feeling ever… Nothing. I feel like I’m drowning in space. Is that a Beatles song? Oh well.

Closet, what do you have in store for me to put on today? Vintage, vintage, and more vintage. People call it hipsterish, I call it beauty. I’m home alone so I put on some booty shorts and a nice,tight tank top. I start

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             E stairs when I suddenly hear a giggle. Maybe I’m not home alone? I look into the adjacent room and see my mother with a man on top on her. Fucking fantastic. I slowly creep to get my keys and out the door.



Sliding into my crappy 1995 Honda Accord I can instantly smell the slightest fragrance of marijuana. It’s not a Huge deal, it’s not like I’m addicted or anything. Addicted. Addicted... I grab a prerolled joint, light up, and start on my way. I have no idea where I’m going on this Saturday morning, but as long as I’m away from home, I’m okay with wherever I end up.

My car twists and turns through narrow roads and leads me towards the Wendy’s parking lot. My stomach does back flips and kicks, almost in a cheer of about getting food and a hateful spite towards me for waiting so long to retrieve it.

“Welcome to Wendy’s, may I take your order?”

Obviously you have to, otherwise I’d just leave, bitch. Plus, you want to get paid right? Don’t ask dumb questions.

“Yeah, I’ll have a small order of fries and bottled water.”

“Will that be it for today?”