The Things We Do (Under Editing)

Lead Role in the Performance Called 'My Life'

I found myself laying on something far too soft considering recent events and was immediately suspicious. I didn't like waking up in a different place than where I fell asleep, or passed out.

Fortunately, when I forced my eyes open, it was to the familiar sight of the ceiling in my room.

Unfortunately, I had no idea how I'd gotten there.

The late sun coming through my window shot pain straight through my skull, and might have started crying if I was sure I was alone. My hand flew to my head, but only succeeded in smacking the ice pack someone had put on it. I groaned and threw the now thawed bag of goop at the window with what little strength I had. It didn't fly very far.

Kacie and Mel burst into the room a moment later, probably summoned by the sound of me attempting to pick a fight with the sun. I think Kacie would have dove onto my bed if it weren't for my irritated squinting at the world. Instead she settled for crashing at my bedside.

"Are you alright? Are you hurting? How many fingers am I holding up? Do we need to take you to the hospital?" I pressed my hand to her mouth and let out a very long shush.

"I'm just glad you're awake." Mel deflated like a balloon upon verifying that I was in fact alive.

I too was glad to be awake, but also wanted to know how I'd ended up in my bed without my costume.

Wait...

I looked down at myself and corrected: without the obvious parts of my costume. I was still wearing the same pair of jeans and t-shirt.

"I'm fine." The lie dropped off my tongue easily, though not believably. My head felt like someone was trying to pry it apart with a rusty screwdriver. I probably had a concussion on top of a concussion.

Mel and Kacie shared a glance and I wondered what state I'd been in when I returned.

"I'd be better if you closed the curtains"

Kacie jumped up to comply, probably just glad to have something to do. Mel kept scrutinizing me.

"What happened to you?" Trust Mel to always ask the reasonable question.

"What do you mean?" Not my best response.

"What do I mean? What do I mean!?" Mel had snapped and I could hardly blame her. "I mean: you never came home last night, which is something you never do, and when I'm about ready to call the cops, I find you in bed with an ice pack on your face and I can't wake you up!"

Well now I knew what I needed to build my story around.

"I may have gotten into a slight dispute with a drunk." My shoulders lifted in a slight shrug.

Kacie's eyes widened. "A dru... Amelia!" I winced at her cry and she immediately lowered her voice. "What on earth were you fighting about? And why would you be around a drunk long enough to get in a fight?"

"You know for a fact it doesn't take long for me to get into a fight."

She practically growled at me. "How did you manage to end up fighting one of the few people in this city that could still take you down while drunk?"

"First of all, rude of you to assume he took me down and didn't just get in a lucky blow." I actually meant that part. "Second, I walked past him and he grabbed my arm to stop me. He was intent that I would go home with him. I was intent that I would not." The lies dripped from my lips with little guilt. I wondered when I had gotten so used to hiding the truth. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get some sleep."

Considering how many fights I'd gotten into for similar reasons, I figured that was at least a believable excuse, but I could tell they were still frustrated. I ignored them, however, rolling to face the wall despite my body's complaints.