Not my picture.
Hi! I hope you enjoy this chapter!7 years ago
I woke up at...
"oh..." I thought as I sat up. I hadn't slept at all. The fear of being beaten for oversleeping had stopped me from sleeping. I got up, looked at the clock, which showed that it was 4 in the morning. I got dressed into my favourite blue shirt and black jeans. I didn't have any shoes. My parents had said that they were a frippery that shouldn't be wasted on a gewgaw such as myself. I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was an average (H/L) and (H/C). I had to cut it myself if I wanted it a bit shorter. I, instead of having bags, had extremely sunken eyes. So much so that my eye sockets looked like those of a corpse that had been frozen to death.
I stopped looking. It only made me more depressed than I already was. I had to go out and get myself pills when I went shopping. I got them from a certain... source, let's just say. I quietly went down the stairs, making sure not to creak. By now, I already knew where all the weak points in the steps were, so I avoided them. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I went to the kitchen as discreetly as earthly possible. I got out eggs, black pudding, sausages, bacon strips, orange juice, whisky, and a knife. After all the years of practice and getting the stick, I finally knew how to make a perfect full English breakfast. I learned all sorts of recipes this way. The toddler's brain is amazing at learning stuff.
I finished cooking, poured the orange juice into a square glass for my mother, and poured a tall glass of whisky for my father. Sadly, I no longer saw them as parents, let alone family. The years of hitting, kicking, ganging up on, verbally abusing, and blaming had taken their toll on my body and mind. I had gone to the doctor, asking for some psychology tests and "try yourself" self examining kit. They weren't too sure about it, but I told them I was running an errand. That day, I had found out I had manic chronic depression, anaemia, and anthopophobia. I also noticed, without the help of the tests, that I was now extremely shy, to such a point as to actively avoid other people, but that might as well have been the anthropophobia.
I put the food on trays, went upstairs without making a sound. I crept into my parents bedroom and laid the food in front of them, on their laps. When they woke up, they were greeted with the sweet smell of mouthwatering full English breakfast. They sat up and started eating noisily... just like a pair of pigs. When they finished, I went over to them, took the platters, and went to the kitchen. I cleaned the dishes, then the house, then checked if I needed to buy anything from town. There wasn't anything I needed from town, but I wanted to go outside for a bit, to escape this horrible household.
In town, I went to the park. I sat down on a bench and looked up at the sky. I found a newspaper in the bin. The headline was about a famous couple, apparently royalty, getting married. I tossed the newspaper away, not caring to read the rest. If a newspaper started with that kind of a story, then the rest was surely not worth reading. I looked around, people watching. I saw couples that looked happy, dog owners walking their dogs, and all sorts of other people.
They were all happy...
I kept looking around a saw a man, asking if we "wanted any". I walked over to him and asked what he was selling.
"You a coppa?" He asked.
"N-no." I answered.
"Ok, well, there's meth, coke, a phone, some earphones, and a charga." He said, sizing me up, "and if you want, I could, uhh, find you a job of sorts."
"C-c-c-could I-I-I-I h-h-have th-the ph-ph-phone, the e-earphones, a-a-a-a-and th-the charger, p-p-please?" I asked, "a-and wh-wh-what i-is this j-j-job?" He smiled at the last part.
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Murder the Noisy
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