Walk Me Down The Hallway

Chapter Twenty: The Morning After

IT ONLY TOOK ME THREE YEARS! So frikken sorry guys, omg. I totally understand if you hate me and don't read my story anymore.

So, I don't remember if I ever mentioned what time of the year it was in my earlier chapters, but it's near Christmas now in real life, so it's going to be near Christmas in this story.  That way I can keep up with the time of year as I continue to write this.

                 Have you ever felt like even though you know that when you open your eyes, the same dull ceiling will be staring down at you from above your bed, and yet you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to savour whatever time you have left, and thus, avoiding the inevitable? And then, in those few minutes after you awake, you are forced to make the huge decision that is to get up and force yourself to become awake, or asleep, 'just a little longer' until eventually you're late instead of early?

                I have. Except, I have found that despite however good it feels to remain 'asleep' and to stretch out those bunched muscles, it is totally not worth it.  I always totally regret it.  Which is ironic, since the next morning marks the beginning of the same idiotic feat.  You would think I would've learnt, but it's just so damn hard to think in the morning. 

                I believe, that at five am, the brain has two functions.  The 'breathe-because-I-have-to' mode, and the 'I'm-tired-so-shut-the-hell-up-and-sleep' mode.  So every day is an ongoing battle with our brain, and I ask myself: "is it worth it?"  If the brain was a human -one that controlled our entire life (Donald Trump?) and we argued with him every morning, we'd either be really annoyed, or fired.  It's a lose-lose situation.

                That was exactly how I felt every morning, except, oddly enough, this morning. Because this morning, I would have to walk down that hallway, into the kitchen, and pretend that absolutely everything was okay between Mal and I.  He would probably stare at me over his glass of pulp filled orange juice -side note: seriously though, who drinks orange juice with that much pulp? My mom had to go BUY him a whole new jug of it for just him! It had his name on it and everything!  The point is, he would be there unnerving me with that serious lawyer look that I'm sure he gives people when he's trying to figure them out.  And my mother wouldn't notice, because she never does; Mal is amazing! Mal is perfect! She wouldn't be thinking that way if she knew what happened yesterday in my bedroom.... But, lo and behold, I couldn't tell her that.  Why couldn't I tell her that? Because then she would throw Mal out (probably), and he would very likely throw something in there about my tunnels to get me into trouble, and he would probably mention the skull, and then I wouldn't be allowed to go exploring anymore... So, you see, it really wouldn't do me any good to do anything but try to ignore his evil stare, and munch away at my breakfast.

                I sat up, and threw my covers off of myself, and took a flying leap for my bathroom.  I hadn't showered after my incident with the tunnels -gross, I know- but I had kind of just laid in my bed for the rest of the day, and sulked over cheap cheesy movies that I found on Netflix, and ate junkfood that I managed to sweep from the kitchen; thankfully without my mother noticing.  She had probably noticed the trail of dust leading to my room, then to the kitchen, then back to my room... If she came into my room and saw the state of my bedding, she'd probably have a conniption fit. 

                It's probably a good thing that I do my own laundry.

                And that she didn't come check on me.

                I should probably have that shower now, I thought, sluggishly turning on the water to the perfect temperature, and then turning to jack the volume of my music on my phone to an all time max. This shower should be rather relaxing! ...Not.