The Taming of the Shrew

Rough Morning

Elizabeth's POV

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

What the fucking fuck is that horrible screeching noise assaulting my eardrums?

I open one eye and look, sleepily and pissed off, towards my alarm clock and read the time displayed in my head.

6:00 am. I chuckle groggily. I slam my hand on the top of the digital box to silence the noise and roll over.

"Fuck that." I croak out in my revolting morning voice. I smile to myself. Everything is peaceful and silent and i can feel myself drifting back to sleep when no more than two minutes later...it happens.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Both of my eyes shoot open. I roll back over sharply to face the clock and i stare at it as it continues beeping noisily. A few minutes of the horrible noise passes while i stare in a frustrated silence.

"IT'S STILL DARK OUTSIDE. SHUT THE FUCK UP." I scream abruptly at the small box and slam my hand down on the top of it for the second time. Everything is silent once again. My eyes droop heavily and im falling...falling...falling...

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

I let out a frustrated groan/scream thing and rip the cord out of the wall. The beeping stops immediately. I sigh and roll out of bed and onto the floor. I look around my room, littered with books and pizza boxes and movies all faintly showing their outlines in the dawn light. Its practically still dark out. I let out a few tired sobs before standing and making my way to the bathroom. Fuck, its early.

I enter the bathroom and turn to face the mirror only to be met by a horrible looking banshee/gollum hybrid staring back at me. Oh why, god, must you make me so fucking hideous? I grab my brush and start smoothing out the tangles and knots in my bed hair.

Remind me again why we took this job, Elizabeth? We dont even know who in the name of shit we are personally assisting. I say to myself mentally. I keep brushing my hair until all of the knots are out. Great. Now im just gollum minus the banshee. I walk out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. My mind continues its conversation with itself.

Because it could be fun, its good money and we owe uncle Rob a favour. I make a half smile. All good points. But seriously...too early. I need coffee.

I practically fly over to the kitchen bench to make myself a black coffee to go. The machine turns on then dies. No no no no no. Not today. I try again. The machine splutters, then dies. I stare at the machine in disbelief and disappointment.

"I thought i could trust you. Then you go and pull a stunt like this. I expected better." I say bluntly to the coffee machine. Great. No coffee. I look up at the clock on the kitchen wall. 6:13 am. Shit. I have to be on set by 6:30.

I walk to my bedroom and rip out a pair of black skinny jeans along with my grey t-shirt that has writing scrawled across the front of it.

'My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart, concealing it, will break.' ~ William Shakespeare.

Fuck it, it'll do. I rip off my pj's and pull on the clothes i just chose. I grab my old, low cut, black and white converse and do them up. I walk into the bathroom and look at myself. Hm. Below average. Above failure. Not bad. I quickly brush my teeth.

I turn and throw my weight down the hall and back into the kitchen. I look up at the clock. 6:17 am. Okay, so the set is about 10 minutes away by car. On the way i guess i'll stop and get myself coffee. Yeah. I want coffee.