Over Dramatic

Meet Linnea Vinter

Stringy, oily, dark blonde hair wept an inch or two past Linnea's shoulders as a lock of it dance through her calming knuckles. The air of her small, mildew stained, trashed apartment was smogged with almost hotbox-like smoke that drizzled from her joint. A few heavy metal and rock band posters hung from the bland bache, paint chipped walls while other posters were crumpled or slightly ripped in messy rolls on the alcohol-drenched-used-to-be-white carpet. All throughout the apartment laid dirty clothes, beer cans, a few empty prescription pill bottles, month old cereal bowls with spoiled milk hugging onto the insides, shredded papers of art and musings, and some moth balls hidden in old socks that scattered across her floor.

Her rent was overdue, but it was not like she really cared. She had lived on the streets before and she wouldn't have exactly minded doing it again - except maybe for the fact that the icy snow on the ground would have demolished her chances of survival that winter, but perhaps she didn't really mind that fact much either. All she cared about in that moment was forgetting as she smothered the smoke into her lungs and fell deeper into her sofa.

She played with a small yellow hole that had a black ring around it which was caused by her dropping one of her cigarettes, after a long night of working somewhere in the city, and knocking out which thus led to a hole being burnt into the mocha brown sofa. She picked up that same sofa for free outside of a condemned household about six months before when she was wandering about, as she usually did, and happened to have come across it a little - maybe a half hour or so - before sunrise.

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It was 7:43am as Linnea woke up with a jolt from the rapid banging on her firetruck red door. She grumbled, sighed, then rose to her feet with a push. She stepped over a tiny dead mouse that her cat, Lucifer - cute name, huh? - most likely dragged in a night or two before. Lucifer obviously neglected the mouse to be cleaned up by his owner which they both knew would not happen anytime soon.

Linnea made her way to the door and without a doubt opened the door to be face to nose - he had a really big nose, okay - with Demonico, the landlord of the apartment. Besides the fact that Demonico's nose was way too big for his face and he had a few dark hairs sticking out of it, he wasn't a terrible looking guy for his age. He had dark hair slicked back, he always dressed in fancy suits with expensive ties - on an occasional Friday he would wear a simple sweater vest, he had clean, pasty skin, and green-brown, somewhat hazel eyes. He was fairly tall at a staggering 6'1 - if only he lost a few pounds, the single mother a few rooms over would probably have been all over him - well, also if he got an attitude check - he wasn't the nicest person known to mankind, that was for sure.

Demonico shoved his way right through the doorway and was already off with a start - he spoke just like an auctioneer, "Miss Vinter, you have an extreme amount of violations. For starters, I have told you about that animal living here numerous times - unacceptable. Next set of business, your living conditions are unsanitary - every month I get at least five calls from the late Miss B., one floor down, complaining about the smell coming from 'the young lady upstairs.' It is quite a hassle for me and her to have to deal with this - mind I say - crap consistently. Also, if you are going to have that rule breaking feline living with you, I am going to be forced to call an animal rescue shelter to take him away because of your unhealthy habits. Miss B. has also complained about ceiling leakage - Miss Vinter, are you listening to me? This is very important to eveyone's well being, especially mine considering I have a business to run here. - and I am most certainly positive the leakage has come from your excessive drinking problems spilling all over my carpet which, in fact, was only installed around five years ago. And my walls - what a wreck! It clearly states in your contract you may NOT hang wall art for the paint will chip - do you see what a mess you have made? Are you some kind of hoarder, Miss Vinter? You're causing destruction in my state of business. I also see - and smell - a rotting rodent - unacceptable behavior. This is why we do not allow pets. Another thing, your smoking is atrociously intoxicating and I know damn well your Satanic cat has not dragged in a skunk - you're lucky I don't report you straight to the police. Your smoking habits are filling my airways and I won't have it any longer - not in my apartments. I also happened to notice a few other errors here and there, but I mainly wanted to inform you that your rent is way past overdue. You have one week to pay double or pack your - whatever you call all this garbage - and get off my land."

As Demonico finished pointing out violations throughout the apartment - like the hot water handle missing on the bathroom sink or the scratched up door frame from Lucifer's claws - he scribbled down a formal documentary of his visit and handed Linnea the yellow sheet before sliding the pink sheet into a pocket of his big, navy blue binder.

"And one last thing, Miss Vinter, please dress in more appropriate and more appealing attire when answering the door - it'll do you better," He trailed his eyes over her slim body and gagged at her green-checkered boxer shorts, white crew cut socks, and her ex boyfriend's baggy Pepsi t-shirt. He scoffed as he kicked away a dirty, hot pink thong and shut the door behind him as he left the apartment.

She crouched down slowly and picked up the thong delicately as Lucifer popped out from some unknown place and bit it right out of Linnea's hands before he flopped over onto his back and wrestled with the underwear.

"You're a little son of a bitch," Linnea smiled slightly before going grim and heading over to her cobwebbed cabinet for an expired box of cereal.