Not where it was going to go...
Jan. 18th, 2007 09:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
robinblokeMorning. Like a coating of sand on the inside of my eyeballs. My whole body seemed to itch, ache, complain at the slightest movement.
My room was how I remembered it. I always looked for the details when I woke up. That can I thrown in the corner, that piece of old grey wallpaper I knew was peeling off the wall. It let me know that I was awake.
I'd had dreams about wallpaper peeling from the walls. It probably wasn't a good sign.
The warmth of the sun from the window at least was something worth waking up for, nothing else in the small room I'd been calling home for the past three months really made it anything more than a dry place to sleep. Cracked walls covered in ancient stained wallpaper; dirty, rotting windows that leaked when it rained and a worn mattress thrown in the corner for a bed.
I was living the high life all right. A cough shook my chest as I smiled at the thought, yeah, I was in about as good a condition as the room.
A brief humming buzz from my phone made it dance over the floor for a second, the same sound that had brought me awake a few moments before. I picked it up and glanced over the screen, the text scrolling past as my eyes ran over the glimmering pixels, their colour a pale unearthly light compared to the sun creeping slowly across the room.
She was dead. I felt the moment hold as the words told me. I had to read them again. I'd barely known her, we'd spoken maybe five times. But something had been there, something that I wanted to grow.
I threw the phone onto the mattress and half-crawled to the pile of clothes at the end of the bed as the questions started to follow the numbing feeling in my mind. Questions to distract me from the reason for them. Questions to focus me on, bring me awake. Questions to give me something when she had been the only thing left.
An hour later the rain was falling around me in shifting waves that ebbed and flooded with the wind. The cafe was a half burnt out husk, but then it had always been like that - but the life inside was gone.
The police hadn't got here yet, it would only be a matter of time. I looked over my shoulder almost expecting one of them to clamp a hand on my shoulder and ask me the first of their questions about what and why and how.
I felt sick in my stomach.
This wasn't how it was meant to be. Yeah. That's what you always tell yourself.
My room was how I remembered it. I always looked for the details when I woke up. That can I thrown in the corner, that piece of old grey wallpaper I knew was peeling off the wall. It let me know that I was awake.
I'd had dreams about wallpaper peeling from the walls. It probably wasn't a good sign.
The warmth of the sun from the window at least was something worth waking up for, nothing else in the small room I'd been calling home for the past three months really made it anything more than a dry place to sleep. Cracked walls covered in ancient stained wallpaper; dirty, rotting windows that leaked when it rained and a worn mattress thrown in the corner for a bed.
I was living the high life all right. A cough shook my chest as I smiled at the thought, yeah, I was in about as good a condition as the room.
A brief humming buzz from my phone made it dance over the floor for a second, the same sound that had brought me awake a few moments before. I picked it up and glanced over the screen, the text scrolling past as my eyes ran over the glimmering pixels, their colour a pale unearthly light compared to the sun creeping slowly across the room.
She was dead. I felt the moment hold as the words told me. I had to read them again. I'd barely known her, we'd spoken maybe five times. But something had been there, something that I wanted to grow.
I threw the phone onto the mattress and half-crawled to the pile of clothes at the end of the bed as the questions started to follow the numbing feeling in my mind. Questions to distract me from the reason for them. Questions to focus me on, bring me awake. Questions to give me something when she had been the only thing left.
An hour later the rain was falling around me in shifting waves that ebbed and flooded with the wind. The cafe was a half burnt out husk, but then it had always been like that - but the life inside was gone.
The police hadn't got here yet, it would only be a matter of time. I looked over my shoulder almost expecting one of them to clamp a hand on my shoulder and ask me the first of their questions about what and why and how.
I felt sick in my stomach.
This wasn't how it was meant to be. Yeah. That's what you always tell yourself.
