quaint [h.s.]

eight

The next couple of days went by so slow and life for me got more exhausting day by day. I still wonder how someone could even live like this? Yet, I've been here for two weeks and I'm doing absolutely fine. It's not like I'm dying or anything horrible like that.

As for the remote, I pretty much think Harry has ended that solution as for me leaving this place. I'm not sure if he dropped it by accident, or if he meant to let it slip out of his clumsy long fingers.

Whatever it is, it's getting annoying. He's getting annoying. I sit here on a boring Wednesday. Hopefully, something exciting will happen today. Because I'm starting to actually believe that there is a strong possibility of me dying from boredom.

If I don't kill myself by then. I don't really mean that, I don't know. I just can't spend the rest of my life here. I've been waiting eighteen years to be eighteen.

Now I'm eighteen and from the way it's looking, there will be no life for me already. There will be me, here forever. Why thank you Fate, I really appreciate you ruining my life in a heartbeat.

I'm finally wearing some jeans and a tee shirt. Along with my hair in a high bun and my flats. Fuck this stupid era. I don't care what all the other women wear. So if I step outside and I hear one man or woman snicker about my appearance, I will gladly and most likely strangle the person.

Stupid dresses are so annoying to wear every second of the day. The jeans are a big baggy for my liking but that's fine. It's better than a long dreadful curtain hanging from my hips. Also known as a skirt.

As I read the New York Times, Lindbergh's baby is still on the cover. Saying stuff like 'We found a clue!" Please. I don't think they'll ever find that child.

They should take it out of the papers because its been on since March and its getting a little old if you ask me. A loud ring sounds next to me.

I turn my head and see the black telephone ringing. I hesitate to pick it up. What do I say? 'Styles' Residence'? 'Mrs. Styles speaking!'

I shake my head and quickly pick up the receiver to abruptly stop the ringing. "Hello?"

"Hey, Doris!" From the quick pace of this person's voice, its James.

"What do you want?" I roll my eyes.

"I apologize. I should've never did that.." James trails off.

Right when I open my mouth to reply, a knock comes at the door.

"Oh..Harry's back so soon?" James sighs sadly. He's not so thrilled about me being 'engaged'.

"No, it shouldn't be him...wait a sec," I say and set the receiver face down on the table.

I stand and walk to the front door and open it. I'm not in the mood to look at people right about now. There stands a guy. He was just here last week. But I just can't seem to remember his name.

"Uh, hi?" I ask and play with the door knob.

"Hey, I'm William. Remember?" His light honey voice speaks and my heart stops. For just a second anyway.

"Oh. Yeah, yeah. Harry's at work," I say.

"That's fine. May I come in?" William said and the ice man walked behind him. I'm sick of this ice man shit too.

William turns around and grabs the ice from the man as the man nicely nods to me and I return the gesture, but with a slight smile.

William walks right past me and refills the ice box with ice, after emptying the drip pan. I shut the door and walk back to the sofa, picking up the phone. "Sorry. Harry's friend decided to come by."