Falling In-love with a freak

Chapter Two

My eyes flutter open like a butterfly's wings, the room spinning clocks ways and the anti clock ways, feeling sick at the bottom of my stomach. I felt cold; damp sweat coving my body, with my head banging I felt vomit coming up my throat, throwing up all over the dirty, musky floor boards. With every heave warm dry tears stained my cheeks. Finally I stopped vomiting, dried my eyes and found the strength to stand up. I stumbled towards the door of my bedroom. Holding the gold, vintage door knob.I rested my forehead against the once white door, took a deep breath and swung the door open with all my might. Taking small steps my head swung loosely from my neck as I slouched over letting my weight shift all to my legs, I hammed around my home (if you can call it that) taking down everything in my way. Finally after stumbling down the hall I entered the rotten, once loved kitchen. I started searching the cupboards looking for a bowl. My eyes searched the cupboard until they rest on the bowl I was looking for. Grabbing the light blue, cracked bowl with my shaky hands, I lifted it on top of the counter. Putting both hands on the counter either side of the bowl, I lifted my self up from the crouching position I was once in to find the bowl. My joints ached, my head spun and the room became dark again. I leaned my elbows on the counter top and rested my head into my hands, cupping my cheeks. I thought about the unspeakable thing that happened to me only days ago. It was as if it was taking all my strength all my power. Draining my body. This time I stood up tall and carried on what I was doing, trying to forget about the way I felt I turned on the tap. Freezing water shot out of the mouldy tap like it was building up all of the water and now it can finally pour it self out. Without even thinking I reached out my hand and put it under the water, it felt so good to just feel the water between my fingers. It made me feel alive again. With my other hand I held the bowl with a stern grip and then put it under the tap letting the bowl fill with the water. Once it was full I put it on the counter top finally turning of the tap. Taking a old rag of the side of the sink I put it in the bowl then carried it weakly down the hall. Passing the broken, musky doors I appeared outside of my bed room. The door still open I entered the room. The dark oak floor boards creaked with every step until, I stopped in front of the vomited mess that I created only a few minutes ago. Crouching down I put the bowl beside It, picked up the rag and drained it above the bowl. I then started cleaning up the sick. Once I was finally done, I peered at the clock.... Again. 3:56. How long was I passed out for? I asked my self. In a way I was thankful. Time never passed that quick for ages now. I decided I needed some air, I needed to get out of this jail I have put my self in. Standing up, I decided to get in the shower, something that I haven't even thought about doing since you know... Anyways I entered the bathroom. Waddling to the shower I turn on the warm water as it sprayed out, I slowly started to undress my self. My body now fully naked I climbed into the shower. Feeling the water covering my body leaving me dripping wet I realised there is still part of me alive. Part of me that is thankful for this moment as I haven't felt happy for days. After what felt like blissful moments of life I reached my hand out and grabbed a towel. While the other hand turned of the water. Finally wrapping the towel around me, I climbed out the bathtub and onto the crusty bathroom rug. Looking into the stained, dirty, musky mirror I pulled the dripping wet hair away from my eyes and my damp face. Using my fingers to part my hair into my side parting because my brush had broken a couple of days ago then finally French braiding my hair and taking the two bobbles from the side of the sink and tying the end of my hair. I put some peppermint toothpaste onto my toothbrush and started brushing my teeth. After gargling, spitting then rising. I got some eyeliner out from my make up bag next to the sink and applied winged eyeliner, after spending time getting them perfect I reached over to my make up bag dropping the eyeliner into it then zipping it up, not bothering to put anything else on. I retreat back to my room. Opening my wardrobe, looking through my clothes trying to find the perfect outfit. I found a dress, red with white poker dots with a alter neck and a zip at the back. The dress coming no higher than the middle of my thigh but still showing of my long tanned legs. Picking some red heeled shoes to go with it. I took a look in the mirror. My hair now dried it was a soft light brown with darker brown and dirty blond natural highlights all platted in my French braid. The black wigged eyeliner contrasted with my glossy, shinning hazel eyes and the natural blush of my rosy cheeks matched perfectly with my tanned golden body. Being Italian in England really helped me achieve a natural tan compare to the rest of the people in the country are all so pale. Don't get me wrong, Im not dark skinned that I look like a different ethnic group but just enough for my golden body to stand out from the crowd. You would think I would look beautiful with tons of conference but your wrong. Being an depressed late teen foreign girl in a cruel world isn't easy. Taking some sunglasses of the floor and putting them in a red clutch bag matching with my shoes. Taking one last look in the mirror I headed to the door, unlocking the door I took a look over my shoulder at the clock on the table in the hall. 8:30. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door. Greeted by the sun warming my skin up and as the children laughing as they run for the school bus. A group of moms pushing baby prams along the path gossiping and just talking in general. Everything around me was normal but why didn't I feel normal? Strolling along the path not knowing where I was going I passed a paper shop. Deciding to enter knowing I had some spare money in side of my bag I decided to get a news paper. Picking up the newspaper I look at the date 2/06/1952. Shocked as how the days went by, realising I have been in my house for not a couple of days but 2 weeks. I think that the person at the contour could see my expression on my face "you alright sweet cheeks?" He questions with a smirk on his middle aged face. Smiling back I replied " y..yeah,I just lost track of the days" reaching out his dirty hand "that would be 5cent" I opened my bag but before I could get my money out he politely said " but for someone as pretty as you it will be free" thanking him with a kiss on his cheek I put the news paper under my armpit and carried on wonder down the street, carrying on my journey to the unknown.