I turned on one of the music radio stations sites and relaxed on my bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. I lied there for almost a full twenty minutes before I got bored. I tried sleeping but I was still clothed and my laptop was still blaring out some top forty song.
I rolled off the mattress and slumped my way towards my desk that was covered in everything and anything, ranging from notebooks to dirty clothes to a half smashed iPod. The iPod wasn’t my fault, or maybe it was. I was dancing away in the kitchen at work when Floyd made me jump and I slung it half way across the kitchen. He wasn’t happy but neither was I.
After moving the pile of clothes which had grown accustomed to living on my desk chair, I finally sat down and pulled the notebook out of my bag which I had been using recently. I had managed to remember not to leave it anywhere, I didn’t want to end up in any sticky situations again anytime soon.
The first page was filled with doodles, in fact the first ten pages were filled with random drawings and sketches I had done. They were mainly of the characters I created. I drew from memory so some of them looked a bit odd or unfinished.
I flipped through the book, landing on the most recent drawing. It was actually a page filled with drawings. All of Harry. Which could be classed as slightly worrying or creepy. But after every occurrence, I noticed something new or different about him, it changed the way I drew him. I noticed each time the sketches got more intense, as if I had been studying him even harder. I pressed down harder, making bolder, darker lines when I was angry or annoyed with him.
I flicked past the drawings to a fresh page and did what I did best, for hours until I was almost content with the words scribbled on the page for no one but me to see.
Tuesday was no different than Monday, long, boring and I still hadn’t been whisked off my feet. I was starting to create weird fantasies in my mind as I kneaded the dough and iced the cakes. Half the time I’d imagine myself to be some slender, tall, long haired beauty, with the looks and the personality which had Harry drooling at my feet. And then I snapped back to reality and realised how weird I was being. The only thing different about Tuesday was that Floyd was more stressed than unusual. It was ‘delivery’ day, and not for baked goods. I shouldn’t have known this, but I did. I knew what was beneath my feet in the basement and it did make me nervous, but I was nowhere near as tensed as Floyd.
Wednesday passed by, slowly but surely. Nothing exciting happened. I watched the new series of American Horror Story before going to bed, which was the highlight of my days now apparently. I was promised horror, I was disappointed with the lack of.
Thursday was probably the worst day of the week. The weather was awful, it was like a monsoon outside. The rain and wind was unbearable. I was soaked through by the time I reached the bakery so I had to stand next to the oven for half an hour in attempt to dry off. It didn’t work great, but it was better than nothing. The bakery was almost completely empty, there had been at most ten customers. And then I realised why Floyd did extra business on the side. This place wasn’t taking enough to stay open on its own.
Friday morning, my alarm 'forgot' to go off. I was running late as it was but I dawdled in the shower. I took extra time washing my hair and exfoliating my face. I needed to wake up so I thought scratching my face with tiny beads would do the trick. It didn’t, I was still just as tired as I was when I got in, when I got out.
Dripping wet, with just a towel draped around me I sauntered down stairs. Fixed myself a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal after I remembered to buy some the other night. There wasn’t a lot of milk so my coffee was black and my cereal was mostly dry. I waddled back up stairs with my hands full and trying to avoid flashing any unsuspecting visitors in the morning.
Chapter 12 - F*ck.
Start from the beginning
