Thantophobia, Chris Schistad

Chapter 4

I woke to my phone ringing relentlessly. I groaned as I rolled over to answer it. I leaned down over the edge of my bed and picked it up from the floor, squinting slightly I tried to read the name on the screen, I figured that it was Eva or someone calling about last night.

"Hello?" I said hoarsely in Norwegian "hi, Maddie" the voice on the other end said "it's Tara" I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes "Tara, hi, how are you?" I asked "am? Maddie? You're speaking Norwegian" Tara laughed "shit, sorry, I'm not awake yet" I told her sitting up properly. 

"No you're grand, so? How's everything going?" Tara asked, her voice loud in my head, I was going to kill myself. "Tara honestly I feel like shit, I'm hungry and I just woke up" Tara laughed softly "why are you so tired" she asked.

 "I don't know, I mean I did go out last night and I did drink but not a load and no hard liquor." I heard movement downstairs and froze "Tara?" I interrupted Tara's spiel about under age drinking. "What?" she snapped, annoyed that I cut her off. "I gotta go, I'll call you back."

I hung up the phone and swung my bare legs over the side of the bed, standing up I padded softly to the door, which I'd left open last night. I quietly walked downstairs, grabbing my hockey stick which I had brought from Ireland.

 I went down the stairs into the dining room and through into the kitchen, I raised the stick in defense as I heard movement from the other side of the door. I kicked it open, yelling a battle cry as I held my hockey stick aloft. Anton screamed and dropped the bowel of cereal that he had been holding.

"What are you doing?" I yelled at him "I could ask you the same thing" he yelled back, "look, you've made me spill my cereal, and break the bowl" he said sadly as he looked down at the mixture of cereal, milk and porcelain shards. I groaned "I'll get a brush" I put my hockey stick in the corner and grabbed the brush from the utility room.

 I also grabbed a roll of paper towels to absorb the milk. "Why are you hear?" I asked Anton when I reentered the kitchen. "Free food" he shrugged, pulling another bowl out of the cupboard "hey!" I said loudly, apparently I said it loud enough to make Anton jump, causing him to drop the bowl, which also smashed on the tiled floor. 

"Oh my God" I groaned as I crouched down and started picking up the pieces of the two blows. "You shouldn't be doing this with no shoes on" Anton said, crouching down to help me "why aren't you wearing any pants by the way?" he glanced up as we worked "I don't sleep with pants on" Anton just nodded in what I assumed was some kind of understanding manor. 

The doorbell rang and I dropped a shard of bowl, that cut open the palm of my had "shit" I mumbled as I scrunched up some paper towel in my hand. "You can't answer the door, you have no pants on, and you're bleeding" Anton said moving to leave the kitchen "you have spilt milk on your crotch" I pointed out,  Anton looked down "fair enough."

I moved through the dining hall and to the front door, me left hand cradling the injured right one. I managed to unlock the door and pull it open. I was greeted for the second consecutive day with the grinning face of Chris Schistad. "It's too early for this" I groaned once I recognised him, "and a very good morning to you too" he said, his grin growing.

 "What do you want?" I asked, wanting him to leave as soon as possible "one of your squad left this behind yesterday" he held up a denim shit. "That's Eva's" I said, reaching out to take it from him. Instinctively I reached out with my right hand.

 Chris's eyes widened when he saw the, now, blood soaked paper towel "shit, what happened?" he asked, as I took the shirt with my left hand "had a fight with a bowl" I smiled as I hung the shirt up on the hook next to the door and noticed the towel from yesterday.