You awaken to the bright morning sun streaming into your bay window, showering you with warmth. The golden rays bathe your room in bright light, leaving anything it touches to glitter in gold. While it's a pretty sight to wake to, you grumble in annoyance, wishing in one way or another that it were still dark out so you can sleep just a little more. The sleep you had last night was shoddy and left your brain feeling like a pile of mush held together by nothing less than a steel cage. You roll over and pull your fluffy black pillow over your head and lay face down on the bed in an attempt to exempt the light from your eyes. It works and you manage to get comfortable enough to drift back off into sleep with a content smile holding your lips into place.
You're about to fall completely asleep, a dream begins to materialize behind your closed eyelids but before anything can fully form into anything besides abstract shapes and dull colors, you're pulled back to your bed by a loud droning noise. Shifting you throw your pillow, it flies through the air and hits the wall with a soft thud and skirts down and falls to the floor.
Take that pillow
You realize a bit too late that the buzzing was obnoxiously coming from your phone. The first place you look is under your pillow, where it usually resides. Coming up short you snake your fingers over the smooth surface of your bedside table, patting it up and down in a vain attempt at finding it. In your haste you manage to knock over the picture of you and your two best friends that sits collecting dust as its never moved from it's place on your table. You also knock down your anxiety pills, which clatter to the ground and the contents within the pill bottles mouth spill out all over your floor. They match the color of your dull white shag carpet, which will make it an even bigger problem when it comes to you finding the little white demons nestled now into it.
Fucking shit, fucking hell, mother of all things...
Finally after what seems like a years worth of searching you find the black device and have to reel yourself in and not throw the phone against the wall, like you had your poor defenseless pillow, in your fuming state, you forget the whole reason you were checking your phone in the first place.
You look over the screen to see that you've missed both a call and a few text messages.
Missed call: Daisey 11:23 Am
Daisey: Hey girl! Call me when you can. We miss you already!
Chelsea: Hannnnnahhhh. Why you no answer us?!
Daisey: Maybe she's sleeping.
Chelsea: Yeah probably sleeping. She's always sleeping.
Chelsea: Shouldn't she be up? Isn't it like early for her and late for us?"
Daisey:Yeah but she probably stayed up late. You know her.
Chelsea: Yeah true.
You pull up the group chat of you and your girl friends. Your crabby feelings ebb away the more you read through your previous conversation with the two. No matter how many miles apart they still can manage to change your mood on a dime and force a reluctant smile to form. You grew up with them in the little town of Ephraim, Chicago. The Windy City or so it's called and rightfully so. Either rain or wind there weren't too many sunny days and the winters were brutal along the water. But you grew up with it, and learned to love that broken little city.
You text the girls back, and await for a reply while twirling a lock of your long brown hair, still laying in bed. You're body's in refusal to get up and you don't blame it. You don't want to get up and around either. The longer you lay here the less probable you are to get up at all.
YOU ARE READING
His Little Play Thing
FanfictionONGOING, SLOW UPDATES. Thank you for reading though! As a young girl you had always believed that monsters as they seemed, were always big creepy things, with sharp teeth and long claws. Piercing eyes and mouths wide enough to swallow you whole. Bu...
