❝In which a celebrity dials a random number in hope of finding one last thing to make him smile before he commits suicide at the end of the month.❞
"I'm going to commit suicide in one months time."
"I think you have the wrong number."
"It can't be t...
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Monday was particularly abusive. He seemed to take joy in slapping Cleo across the face with the harsh reality that the world outside her books still existed. Unfortunately, her book of life wasn't as much of a modern day fairy-tale as she would have liked it to be.
Tuesday was borderline sadistic, clapping his hands in pure glee and filling her ears with maniacal laughter as he watched her miserable life play out in the form of hushed whispers poisoned with insults.
Wednesday was a playwright, typing out her script and forcing her into the role that she refused to play.
Thursday seemed to enjoy being lazy. He dragged his feet along agonizingly slowly, grinning all the long journey home as he watched Cleo's reputation slowly wither away as if it were a decaying flower.
Friday was a dictator, yelling out orders, demanding that she become the perfect daughter of the mother that no longer cared.
Saturday was a perfect grandmother, wrapping her up in gifts in the form of empty promises.
Sunday was a drug dealer, setting her up on a high pedestal of emotions only so it would be so much more painful when she fell the next morning.
