Thinking your thoughts

Jessica

Erratic, volatile, that's what Hogarth had called me. Well, she's not lying. But this erratic volatile girl just got you answers. Whoever that Vanderbilt color guard chic was, thanks, but I won't be calling back.
I take a drink and get in bed. This is the part where I try to go to sleep... and fail. In this line of work you have to know when to let go. I haven't yet mastered the art of not giving a crap. So no matter how many times I tell myself to get some rest, I pack my camera and a drink and walk out the broken door.
I jump the fire escape with ease. I spend some time watching people go about their nights. The overweight women, the disgusting guy... and I'll admit, I'm judging them. It's not like my life is anywhere near put together, but whatever. Cars zip by beneath me. I spot the 'couple' strolling on the sidewalk. Arms linked, making googly eyes at each other and all that crap. They enter the apartment building. I close my eyes for just a second. "Come on Jessica, you know you want to" panic radiates through my body as I hear the haunting voice. No, no, "Main Street..." I say shakily, "Birch street-t... h-Higans drive... Cobalt lane...". I take a shaky breath as I say it and feel relieved. Safer. I make an effort to control my shaky hands and look up. There he is. Standing by the window, looking like a male model in a cologne add. Then the women comes into view, nearly naked. His shirt comes off. I took a long, satisfying drink. I jump off the fire escape and start the long, lonely walk home.
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Yelling, yelling, yelling. Do these two ever shut up?! I throw the closest thing to me, my boot, at the ceiling. "Alright! Alright!" she yells. Finally, blessed silence. Still, my head pounds. I get up to look for Tylenol when I notice my door is ajar. Crap. Someone's moving in the kitchen. Sure, I'm a little nervous. But it would be the most unlucky robber to break in here. I rip the door wide open. Oh, it's just Malcom. "What are you doing in my apartment!" He yells. "Your in my apartment!" I reply, really wishing I could afford a nice apartment like Trish. Or at least not a crap hole like this. Anything with a working door, really. I grab his arm and start leading him out, him mumbling about my peanut butter. Right as I'm about to open the door, it opens for me. "Jessica Jones?"...
Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this! Also this is my first fan fiction so please don't judge to harshly! Please comment your thoughts or how I can improve! Next I hope to write about Trish and Jessica's relationship before kilgrave. Hope you enjoyed!