Sing Me To Sleep

Chapter 30

When the sunlight started seeping into my room like venom, I definitely took notice. My eyes had been out of focus from staring at the visitors logs for two hours on end, my pupils blown wide with the concentration and struggle to read the scribbled names. There had to be something here; I just knew it. If only I could find it.

As the rays of sun filtered throughout the room, so did sound. I heard the distinct sound of bustling teens as they hurried to get ready and leave for school, but I sat back on my bed and waited until the noise calmed down and everyone left before daring to go in search of the one thing I needed most...

Coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee...

I rummage through another cabinet, pulling away with nothing but a half-empty box of uncooked spaghetti noodles and a clean frying pan. Why the hell is that up there? I don't have time to question the odd placement of the kitchenware, just stuffing it back into the cabinet. I jump down off of my perch on the marble-top counter and move to the ground, crossing my legs and rifling through the bottom cabinets. "Where is the damn coffee?"

I wasn't expecting an answer-- I thought I was alone-- which is why I jump when I hear someone behind me reply. "Right above the damn coffee maker."

I stagger clumsily to my feet and tighten my grip on the counters ledge, pressing my back against it and inhaling a sharp breath. "You scared the crap out of me," I sigh. I try to calm my too-fast heartbeat and study the person who snuck up on me. It's a girl, the first one I've actually seen in this house aside from Beatrice though, granted, I hadn't seen much of anyone. She had her back turned to me, black hair falling down in elegant waves to the middle of her back. She stands up on the toes of her combat boot clad feet, reaching both arms up into a cabinet above her. The hem of her white shirt rises and I see the top of a tattoo across her lower back that dips below the waist of her dark jeans. Her shoulders move with a small laugh before she turns to face me. "I'm Ash."

She brushes her bangs, a vibrant orange color, away from her face and shoves an open hand toward me, her painted red lips stretching into a wide grin. I hesitantly reach a shaky hand forward, but she doesn't notice my nerves. Or at least she doesn't say anything if she does. "You must be Frank," She continues before turning back to the strange looking device on the counter.

Ash motions me to come stand beside her and tugs open a white and green box before producing a small plastic container of some sort. Reading over her shoulder, I realize this must be the coffee stash. "It's a Keurig coffee maker," She explains, opening a latch and placing the plastic pod inside. Hitting a dial, she shoves a Micky Mouse mug in place just as steaming liquid comes pouring out. "One of those fancy one-cup maker things." Shrugging, she allows the mug to fill before raising it to her lips and watching me over the black brim.

I fidget under her gaze and occupy myself with attempting to mimic her motions. I don't pay attention to what kind of coffee Ash pulled out, simply taking a container and shoving it inside the maker before looking around frantically for an empty mug. Ash reaches up again into the previous cabinet and offers me a plain white mug. "Thanks," I mumble and take the cup from her hands.

Waiting for the coffee to make seems to take longer this time around and awkward silence fills the kitchen. I feel the need to say something, so I lean back against the counter next to Ash. "Why aren't you in school?"

The girl next to me swallows and glances over. "Graduated last year," She explains.

"Oh..." I say, now honestly curious. "Then you're eighteen?"

Ash nods easily and blows on the steaming liquid in her cup. I look down at the coffee maker and realize my mug has finished filling. Taking the warm drink into my hands, I take a small sip. "But I thought these places only sheltered until we were eighteen."