Annihilation - h.s.

Chapter Eighteen.

Author's Note:

Okay, you all are due for a humungous apology on our part, It's been almost two months since our last update and we're both so so so so sorry! We couldn't update because of exams at first and then Meg had to get ready and pack for a month-long trip so she had no time to write and then she actually went on the trip where she had a total of like three hours of wifi so no updating then, but we're back now and we're going to try our hardest to get back on schedule. We're both going to be away at various times this month, though, but we're going to work really really hard to keep the updates as consistant as possible.

Thank you all so so so much because even though we hadven't updated in two months, we're still getting notifications, it's INSANE.

Also, we're sorry that this chapter is kind of short but we figured that you would rather have something than nothing at all, are we right? 

P.S. Sorry for the obnoxiously long author's note and if you're going to blame anyone for the non-existant updates, blame Meg. Steph has been begging to update since like the second week that we didn't.

Anyways, enjoy!

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Almost routinely, I wake up to the apartment lit up from the Sunday morning's obnoxiously cheerful sun. I struggle to get out of the warm confines of my sheets for a moment, but eventually succeed in standing up and leaving my room. As I drag me feet across the hardwood, I pass my mother's room and see that her bed hasn't been slept in; she probably hasn't come home yet, though I couldn't say that I'm entirely surprised.

Once I reach the kitchen, I turn the kettle on to boil and reach to get a mug from the cabinet just above it. With the water having not yet reached full heat, I decide to make use of my time by pouring some 'nature blend' - a homemade organic cereal, courtesy of Catherine Harrow - in to a ceramic bowl before listlessly opening the fridge to get some almond milk in hopes to make my breakfast taste less bland.

After my first spoonful of cereal, I hear the click of the kettle telling me that my water has come to a full boil and I pour it in to my mug - barely letting a tea bag dip in to the water before I take a sip. I sigh, thankful for the slightest of heat in my over air-conditioned home.

As I swallow my second sip, the chime of my ringtone sounds from across the room but I ignore it. I'm not ready to part from my tea yet. Of course, nothing is so easy as to enjoy a simple cup of caffeine in the morning, and my phone rings again.

It's probably my mother calling to let me know when she'll be home and asking how my night went. I smile when I think what she's going to say after I explain the near disaster that was last night.

I put the cup back onto the counter before I approach the outlet that's been attached to my phone by a thin white wire all night.

I glance at the screen to confirm that my mother, or better known in my contacts as 'Harrow' is on the outgoing end of this incoming call.

"You've got some explaining to do, you didn't come back all night." I'm excited to hear about the events of her excursion as I fall lazily backwards on to the couch in the family room.

"You didn't quite invite me in the first time, Sweetheart."

My actions are suddenly halted, limbs falling still. The voice that has just invaded my ear definitely does not belong to my mother. It's far too British and its groggily hung-over pitch falls more than an octave below hers.