The Non-sleeping Beauty

Chapter One

Where do I start? Ending something has always been easy for me just like pressing ALT+F4 if you wish to shutdown a computer. But the booting process would always take time especially when you've installed a lot of applications and programs in your system. All the upgrades, all the shits. And that is but life too. Metaphorically. Sssh, yes. I finally know where.

"You slept with him? Now that is the most stupid decision you've ever made aside from being a mad alcoholic, a party freak and not to mention your powder addiction. What has happened to you Ava? I just left you for what, a year and here you are ruining your life?"

"Life is already ruined before you know it, Sof."

"Oh, stop your pessimism. That is what you think because you haven't been seeing colors so it's about time I show you."

"Black and white. That is what I can only perceive through my senses, Sophia. Stop being too romantic, it's sick and it weakens a person. Rainbows? All those ROYGBIV are but illusion. So black and white."

"You are going with me and I'll give you three hours to pack your things. I am saving your life here, I don't expect gratitude and whatsoever. You are leaving NYC, you lady! I don't care if you're 21 and how an adult you claim to be but you still are my little sister. A psychiatrist will be visiting you for about three months. You need a medication, a serious one."

Was that quite heavy for an introduction? Shall we skip and continue with fast forward?  To update you guys since I am not active anymore in social media, it is part of what they call psychoanalysis; I am currently in the greenish part of Canada, a place they call Alberta. My sister, Sophia Jones, I'm sure you already met her, works in this province of Western Canada as a tour guide for businessmen and those big people you see in black suits. She earns well, enough for my session with Tess and our physiological needs of course.

"Hello? Is my favorite buddy home?"
And there goes the human-being I only have in this life except Sof. Being such a badass chic, she is still blessed with the name Angel. I'm glad she did not change it to Medussa though, it must have been hard having it in your birth certificate and wearing an almost-bra crop-top and an almost-nothing shorts.

"So? What did I miss?" I asked her since she is more attentive with the physical world than I am.

"What you just missed was half of your life and I won't allow the other half to be missed again so I got you a Gaston Slater ticket. It's a date, don't worry I won't be hiring other guys to fling-flang with you again just like the last time. I swear. So pretty please, will you go out with me?"

What you just heard is utmost positive. Angel did employ males to trifle with me, amusing me with chocolates as if I'm not allergic to it and giving me bouquet of flowers as if I reside in a funeral. I hate it to be exact, the typical relationship wherein women are being distracted with these little things. What matters for me the most would be a man brave enough to accept me as a whole, a man who is now gone.

"Okay, I'll give it a try if you hold on with what you promised. That Slater thing, who is he anyway? You seemed to be head-over-heels and I-can-move-the-mountains just to see that dude."

"See? That is your problem, Ava. Almost all my life I had been talking about him with you but it seems you weren't actually listening. It pains me knowing this."

She can play being sensitive but trust me, she isn't. I've shut her down for a few times. Okay, a lot of times. Yet she is still patient with how I treat her, how I treat everybody to be fair and specific.

"Ahh, so he is the Youtube guy you tweet, post in Instagram, ask like from people in Facebook for his popularity? Wow, he must have been worth the shame." I told her sarcastically. If you are looking for a perfect definition of fan girl, you can't find it in urban language. Just look for Angel Quinn, she'll even demonstrate how.