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I WAKE UP ON MY OWN TIMING, no alarm clock, or person there to greet me as my eyes flutter open to the creamy white ceiling. Golden light showers over the room through the iridescent curtains like a warm blanket. I'm wrapped up in the fluffy white duvet of the king-sized bed like a burrito. It makes for a good safe place to stare at the ceiling and think. It's cold in the house, the perfect temperature for tucking myself up in bed. It won't be long before Lucinda wonders if I'm dead or not. I've been up here for ages, and it's afternoon by now.
The room I slept in is magnificent and simple at the same time. When the bed had been made and untouched by me, it was grand spotless with big grey and white pillows perched against the headboard. Those same pillows have now been thrown on the floor by me. The actual bed itself is a lot more comfortable than I'd expected— probably because it's worth more than everything I own put together. It's just the right combination of cushy and firm, providing an undeniably amazing sleep. The walls play along with the white theme of the room, running down to dark hardwood flooring beneath them. A nightstand sits beside the bed and a small decorative table stands across the room. Black and white artworks hang on separate walls, but not those of my father. He never painted black and white, he painted in colour. I silently thank whatever gods made it this way. It's nice not having to be reminded of him everywhere I look. A large square window framed by creamy curtains faces the front of the room, offering a view of the pompous fountain below and the long winding driveway. The whole room is about triple the size of mine back home.
It's nice — but I'm out of place. It's almost like I'm staying overnight in a hotel and this isn't actually where I'll be sleeping each night.
My phone flickers on in my hands, displaying the time: 12:55 PM, Monday, September 2nd. I should be up by now. I quickly go to phone my mom, her contact name sprawling across the screen as I bring my phone to my ear. The soft tone of the ring echoes through my ears, but no mom. Eventually I'm forced to give up, tossing my phone down beside me with a huff. I really really need to speak with her. If there's one person who would be able to comfort me through all this, it's her.
The time change! I scold myself. I'm such an idiot sometimes, but I blame it on the drowsiness. Of course she's not going to pick up at six in the morning, considering it's six hours ahead between her and I. I wouldn't! I make a mental note to call her at a more reasonable time later on in the day.
Dragging myself out of bed, I make my way into the equally impressive bathroom, (that's right, my own bathroom, it's crazy) studying my terrible looking appearance in the mirror. My hair is frizzy and displaced, tangled due to rolling around in my sleep. I quickly strip and hop into the shower after tearing apart my suitcase to find my shampoo and conditioner. God forbid I didn't find it. Soon I'm squeaky clean, a fluffy white towel wrapped around my body as I wash my face and throw on a pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie.
