Oh, lady dear, hast thou no fear? Why and what art thou dreaming here? – Edgar Allan Poe, The Sleeper.
Chapter Two (part one)
Light shimmered through my closed eyelids, and I felt too exhausted to even attempt to open them. But I had to wake up completely, because I needed to clean up the dried cuts on my cheek, and I also had make sure that I did not have any serious injuries from last night’s cruel events.
Happy New Year, I thought to myself bitterly while standing up. This is how yet another year will play out, nothing out of the usual, and nothing to look forward to. I still found it hard to fully breathe without sensing occasional pain around my stomach area, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t been through this before, I always seem to muster through it eventually.
I figured a warm shower would be good; thankfully I had my own bathroom, so I had at least some privacy, that and my bedroom. Most people would find my bedroom too frayed or even cringe worthy, but I couldn’t help but be fond of it, there’s just something about it that reminds me of myself, and it clung onto so many good and heart-warming memories. It had a character of its own.
The window lattice was always a little crooked; my mum and I never found the right angle to place it so it wouldn’t be so bent. I could easily fix it now though, but I decided to keep it that way; since it reminded me so much of my mum and the good times. The thought of it brought an unnoticed smile on my face, it was barely there, yet I could feel it. “I miss you mum”, I whispered to myself.
It took me some time until I could look at myself in the bathroom mirror, and the second I saw my reflection made me regret ever looking at myself. I didn’t want to see myself in such a sorry state; I could scarcely keep myself together. Cleaning up the cuts was the worst, so many glass pieces had to be removed.
No school for me today, I concluded. The left side of my cheek was pretty awfully swollen and quite bloody; I’ve never seen my stomach as blue and purple as it was today. I couldn’t go to school in such a bad shape, not to mention all the questions I would receive from teachers. Dad is probably going to be out god knows where the rest of the week, and it’s currently Monday morning. I couldn’t be more relieved.
Though my injuries, I still needed to work. It wasn’t like I got any money from my dad, all his payment went to alcohol and occasionally food and rents, I did not have any other expectations from his whatsoever.
So I went both to school, studied hard, and worked harshly throughout the evenings. Nothing could describe how tiresome and weary it truly was.
After getting cleaned up and dressed, I decided to go out and eat breakfast; for nothing would be worth cooking in here, I grimaced.
I didn’t dress in anything particularly interesting today, quite the contrary actually. It was pretty boring and plain, because I needed to cover up all the bruises, just in case I saw someone familiar. After putting on my busted black combat boots, and locking the front door, I started walking towards the nearest café I could find. I figured driving my car today wouldn’t be the cleverest decision. I stopped in front of my favourite café, Madeline’s café.
The loud cling of the bell by the entrance echoed through the shop and the intense scent of coffee and pastries hit my senses, I embraced the exquisite appreciation of it. A couple of costumes briefly drifted their gazed to me, but soon averted their gazes elsewhere out of disinterest.
It was still very early in the morning, I glimpsed at the clock, 8 o’clock. This was going to be a long day to cope through, I mused.
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