Death In My Voice [Severe Editing Era]

Chapter 8

Tell me how's it feel sittin' up there
Feeling so high but too far away to hold me

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      I was bored. Not even that: I was insanely bored. 

      They all found something to do, and only I walked around the tower like a restless one. 

      Steve went to get a new suit for a charity evening, Pepper had talks with some partners, and Tony, very strangely, was involved in organising his fancy party. Usually, his girlfriend does such things for him, but today he is responsible.

     That sounds funny. 

     Even the twins didn't come early in the morning, although they usually have breakfast here. 

     As a result, from ten to four I mumbled in the laboratory, making some notes and thinking in which direction I should go. This was undoubtedly very interesting, but not so much as to not make me yawn every ten minutes even after five cups of hot coffee. 

      I don't know when I became so genuinely interested in natural science. Probably, on the day when, at the chemistry class at the guesthouse, we were shown a documentary film about the types of substances and their properties. I was only thirteen years old, but it struck me deeply. I suddenly realised how much we don't know about the world in which we live. 

      Then I asked Isabel Bleich to tell us more about the things that always surrounded us. Now I'm twenty-four, but we still don't know everything. That's what I'm going to change. I want to leave a legacy that my descendants will be proud of.

      In the meantime, I'll start preparing for the charity evening. 

    ''Friday?'' I'm walking through the corridors for one hour, and I can't find the utility room, where the ironing board can potentially be, and I will finally prepare the dress. 

     ''Yes, Miss Y/l/n?''

     ''Where can I find an ironing board?'' I look into another small room, but there are only some flasks and mops. 

      "Go straight, then left and right," the voice of Tony's e-assistant sounded calm as always. I wonder if you can make her shout at me? I'll do it later. ''And right in front of you will be the door.''

       ''Yeah thanks.''

     "You're welcome, Miss Y/l/n." 

      When I found this damn ironing board, I faced the problem of transporting it to my bedroom. I'm, of course, not quite weak, but this one was so huge. 

       When I stroked the dress and folded, I realised how stupid I am. I could carry the dress there and not suffer too much. Well, okay, I'll leave this hellish thingy here.

       My watch shows just five o'clock. Two hours before the start, and between them the impenetrable boredom unless someone comes and dispels it. 

      I wrote a message to Wanda, and she said that she would come in an hour. 

     I just cheered up and started to do my hair. I always had small curls, and I curled my hair at the ends. It turned out very nice. The dress was ready, and all I could do was wear tights and fasten the lock on the back. Since my anorexia, my figure has remained very fragile, and it is not very difficult to choose a dress. 

     But don't get an idea just by looking at my appearance. I know fifty ways to kill somebody with a pencil.

     Despite my concerns, the dress sat just fine: dark red, narrowed to the bottom, not too catchy, but damn elegant. It has the ideal length and a small thin neckline with a small stand-up collar. It was sleeveless, with only small assemblies on the shoulders. It is hard to imagine something more suitable for me.