Bliss

Chapter 6: She's Gonna Have A B.F

Chapter 6: She's Gonna Have A B.F

*

*

*

I don't even know why I'm still up. He was obviously joking.

Mason isn't coming. Hahaha do you get it? Maybe not, depending on how sane and dirty minded you are. Anyway...

For all I know, he could have said it because he has multiple personality disorder. That might be why he told me his name was Walter.

I could have been talking Dave The Business Man when he was telling me about his 'epic break-out'.

All thought I doubt it. Mason doesn't seem like the kind guy that if he had a multiple personality disorder, he'd name one of them 'Dave The Business Man.'

No, he'd probably choose something more "cool", like Dave The DareDevil.

I almost snort at the thought.

Ugh. I feel like such an idiot. Here I am sat up, and it must be way past half one by now, and I'm still awake.

Because of Mason frickin' Matthews.

Don't get me wrong I tried to go to sleep, I did, because Mason was so obviously joking.

And no, I'm not waiting up because I think that we're actually going to break-out. That's just ridiculous.

I stayed up, because no matter how mentally unstable I am, I'm still a girl. And if there is any chance that Mason (who is gorgeous, let's face it) might actually turn up, there is absolutely no way I'm going to let him catch my sleep, with my hair a rats nest and drool dribbling down my face.

Wow, shocker! The crazy girl actually gives a fuck about her appearance.

Although, I have to stick with glancing a look at my reflection in windows, thanks to the no mirrors rule. I seriously fucking hate it here. If there was a type of food that would represent this place, it would be a shit and butter sandwich.

A shit and butter sandwich. No, you know what? Scratch that, I'm going all out, it would be a shit and margarine sandwich. With seedy brown bread. And the seeds are so big, that you choke on them.

Where was I again?

I lie in bed and cover my face with the thin white sheets, willing myself to fall asleep.

And that's when I hear it. The footsteps on the hall, echoing. I suck in a breath.

No, it can't be him. He couldn't have actually came. No, it'll be one of the blanks, because there is absolutely no way he could past all the security. No way.

And yet, I can still hear someone's footsteps echoing down the hall, eerily slow. Maybe it's one of the wackos from ward three!

Now, that'd be exciting and fun! Well, I mean as long as I'm not one of the victims, then yeah, it's be great!

Like an over-the-top horror house. With real crazy people. Wait, do I count as one of those crazy people?

The footsteps get louder and closer. This reminds me of that movie, The Nightmare On Elmstreet. Well, I sure hope it isn't Freddie Crugar coming to pay me a visit. That would be unfortunate.

I sit up and stare anxiously at the door. It's thick, heavy and it is locked, so I should be safe from any scary monsters that come in the night.

Hey! Maybe it's Satan, finally coming to collect me after all the bad things I have done.