Trash: A Collection of Stories

Chapter 2

My mouth was dry, the room freezing as I woke. Eyes heavy, head aching, I rolled out of bed. Muffin jumped up at the creak of my boxspring, wagging his tail wildly. He yipped and padded behind me as I walked over to my closet. The emerald dress I am required to wear for work hung loosely on its hanger, after being messily put away last night.

A yawn escaped my lips as I slipped the smooth fabric over my head, pulling it down to a comfortable fit, and tied the bow. I grabbed a scrunchy off the sink counter, taming my hair into a high ponytail. Making my way into the kitchen, I ran my hand along the chipped paint coating the walls. Muffin waited expectantly at his food bowl, tongue sticking out, ears raised. I filled the dish with a scoop and a half of his triangle shaped, dark orange, strong smelling food. Without hesitation, his nose was buried in the pile, scarfing down large mouthfuls.

"Don't forget to chew," I mumbled to myself, storing the bag of dog food back in the pantry. I filled up a cup of water and dumped it into his water dish, being careful to not let it splash. When it seemed he was content with the meal in front of him, I stuck two pieces of bread in the toaster and set the timer. My fingers tapped the counter, my eyes drifting off to my bookshelf in the living room. The wooden shelves caved downward from the weight of books crammed on each one. From the age of the shelf, I'm surprised it still stands.

The bread popped up with a loud ding, causing me to jump. Muffin looked up for a second from his food.

"What are you looking at?" I glared. He sneezed and licked up the remaining crumbs in the bowl. I smiled and rolled my eyes at the animal, turning back and grabbing my toast. Plate in hand, toast being munched on, I skimmed over the spines of the worn books. The printed fonts were cracked, almost unreadable. Each title I read, the plot line ran through my head. My eyes fell on a thick, black, hardcover with no title. I lifted my hand up, tracing my finger along where there should be lettering, but there was nothing.

I set my plate down and pulled the book off the shelf, flipping through the pages. They were all blank and lined, no text. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to remember when I got book like this. I'm not the type to write stories, I've only ever read them. Why would I have this?

The clock on the wall began to chime, catching me off guard. I snapped my head in its direction. Seven am.

"I'm going to be late!" I gasped, running to the door. I slid on my flats and slung my handbag over my shoulder. "See you tonight, Muffin!" He barked before I shut and locked the front door. My feet moved quickly, trying to make it in time to unlock and set up the hall. Horse drawn carriages passed by, the clip clop of hooves on pavement putting me slightly on edge.

I sprinted across the street, being weary of my surroundings. I almost ran into the hall doors, not realizing how close I was to the building. My keys jingled out of my pocket and I unlocked the door. Thankfully, everyone in this guild liked to sleep in.

Going to the lounge, I dropped my bag, a loud clunk following it. I looked down in confusion, seeing the title-less book on the floor.

"I don't remember taking this with me," I whispered to myself, picking up the book. I stared blankly at the black cover, chewing on my lip.

"Levy?" I heard the hall doors close with a clack. I jumped, looking over my shoulder to see who would be here this early.

"Oh, Orga," I sighed in relief, seeing the male walk up to look behind the bar.

"What's that?" He pointed to the book in my hand.

"Uh, just a book I brought to read on my free time. Anyway, I'll set up the dinning room quickly, sorry for the inconvenience," I rushed past him.

End.