Chapter 4: Old Joey's Saloon

17.9K 310 27
                                    

Gum Ball Machine: Perhaps gum ball machines have no relevance to this at all but you must admit they are cool.... all the pretty colours.... oh wait yeah what was I saying? XD Please COMMENT and vote if you likey this booky, if you don't like it, or if you think the colour red is red!

Chapter 4:

Saturday morning sunshine leaked through a small partition between my curtains, allowing a soft yellow trail to wind through the folds and creases of my blanket and plop itself onto my face. Muffled, incoherent curses groggily welcomed the unsolicited intrusion of light as I rolled off the side of my bed and dragged my self, on all fours, to the bathroom.

Once I had shut the door with my foot I finally stood up and tentatively glanced at the small mirror on the wall immediately opposite me. A wonderful sight met my eyes as I edged towards it.

My eyes had become puffy and rather red, my hair looked as if a monkey had used it as toilet roll, plus to top it all off, a small trail of dried drool had trickled down the corner of my mouth. Basically, this was me in all my natural morning glory.

With a groan I began to undress my self out of my crumpled t-shirt and shorts, scrubbing at the drool for a moment, deciding that giving some poor soul a heart attack could wait till later.

A shower, a good brush through and a bit of deoderant and moisturiser later, I felt like the world was ready to see me and not up-chuck. It's nice, that feeling of believing yourself to be presentable enough to be non-vomit inducing. Real good. 

Once I had pulled on a pair of old denim shorts and a plain white t-shirt, I headed down stairs. I could already hear the busy noises of everyday morning hustle and bustle: bare feet padding around, crockery singing a clanging melody of metal against metal, cups clinking and of course the steady beep, beep of the oven.

It was actually quite easy going un-noticed in the mornings but evidently today was different. How did I know this? Well mainly because as soon as I had walked down the stairs every one had already sat themselves down and were waiting impatiently for me. Impatiently. For me.

The events of last night still heavy, I plopped onto my chair  without making eye contact with anyone. Grandma instantly began to talk, in a slow sturdy voice, addressing everyone around the table, listing off their Saturday chores.

“Rayne, ya listening?” Without waiting for my response she began to speak again. “Ya’ll be feeding the pigs.” I looked up with a blank expression and sent her a nod. Her slightly smug mood fell to some extent seeing my lackadaisical attitude so she quickly looked away and proceeded to eat her breakfast.

As if on cue everyone started to eat and talk, food falling out of their mouths and onto the table, food spat into the air while they laughed at crude jokes, bright smiles adorning each of their faces. Except one.

Seth sat quietly, chomping on his food and nodding and talking only when spoken to. My hand throbbed, simultaneously embarassing me and reminding me of my dream, I looked away after a moment and began to eat my food.

Mid chew I looked up at my Grandma, scanning her face for some kind of answer to why she despised me so much. But all I saw were the wrinkles that were set grimly into her sun tanned face, her lank grey hair that had escaped her bun drooping defiantly, and her green eyes that shone bleakly as she talked. My dad’s green eyes, my green eyes.

Stupid. Sexy. Asshole...Where stories live. Discover now