I'm a Loser (ON HOLD)

Chapter 18

Have you ever been punched in the face? Or bitten by a mosquito in the face to a point you can't keep your eyes open? Or ever cried so much, that no matter how much you sleep, it isn't enough? That horrible feeling you feel on your face? Yeah, that's what I feel. The dictionary describes the feeling as 'Swollen', but I just define it as 'Living death that makes me sleepy'.

Feeling the pulsating blood in my face doesn't help me feel any better and I spend around five minutes in bed wondering if I have the energy to go about today.

Snapping out of my miserable state, I head for a lovely mixed bath; burning hot water to relax my body muscles, and ice-cold water to remove the swollen feeling from my face. This little 'Hot & Cold' trick helps me snap out of my lethargy and miraculously supplies me with enough energy only for an unproblematic day.

Slipping into my self-imposed uniform of black jeans, my favorite red and blue flannel shirt, and hair tied in a bun, I lazily walk downstairs and am immediately welcomed by the warm toasty sweet smell of freshly made pancakes. The moment I cross the threshold of the staircase into the kitchen, there is a whole atmospheric change, followed by a mood change in me.

Seeing my mom hurriedly clear the kitchen counter, a mischievous spark in me urges to scare her, but she takes me by surprise when she yells right in my face unknowingly, "SKY! GET YOUR LAZY ASS DOWN HERE. YOU ARE – oh honey, great you're here." I black out for a second, but quickly shake off the stun I get because of her screaming.

Planting a plate of delicious mouth-watering fluffy pancakes, she races over to the couch picks her bag up and slings it across, comes back and plants a kiss on my fore head, "Sorry sweety, I'm really late, so I am heading out. Please lock up properly, check the house before you leave..." She instructs as she puts on her shoes and grabs her keys, "Yes mom! I know the drill. Don't worry. Go before you're late. I love you and have a nice day." I reply as she does a quick check standing near the front door, "You too! I love you. Bye." She yells, slamming the door quickly behind her and I let out a content sigh.

Finally! Some peace.

Considering I woke up early today, I am in no hurry, so, I walk to the couch with my lovely pancakes, but as I sit to devour them, the door-bell rings.

Not even a minute. Wow!

Looks like mom forgot something.

Keeping my plate down, I skip over to the front door and blindly open it, "What did you forget no..." I stop mid-sentence when I notice a middle-aged man in postal uniform carrying a brown paper envelope in his hands, "A delivery for Mr. William Crawford."

The moment I hear the name, I feel the atmosphere change and time momentarily freeze, around me. A delivery for my deceased father? My heart sinks. The last time there was a delivery, it drained our bank accounts as well as my happiness, so what could it be now?

Quickly shaking off my shock, I reply, "He isn't available, could I take it on his behalf?" The elderly man looks at me unsure, "And who are you to him?" I sincerely look the man straight in his faded brown eyes, "I'm his daughter.". The man quickly 'Oh's' and hands me the envelope after which he asks me to sign somewhere and then hurries off, leaving me alone with my wandering thoughts and pounding heart.

Shutting the door hurriedly, a part of me wants to leave the envelope on the shoe cabinet for mom to come home and open, but the other curious half is adamant on opening and reading it myself. My curiosity winning the battle, I grab the paper cutter from the pen stand and sleekly cut the edge of the envelope open.

Inside the big brown envelope, a small white envelope falls out, and turning it over I see the acquainted name: 'Citi Bank' printed on it. My intuition goes wild, knowing that whatever is in this letter is not going to better our situation.