The (not so) Good Girls Bad Boys: The Good, The Bad and The Abandoned

9- Disowned by Book Lovers everywhere

The sun wakes me up the next morning. And I felt like crap. It was too early in the morning to be awake. It was only eight o'clock! Not to mention the fact that I only got home at about four in the morning. Unfortunately for me, I had opened the blinds to one of the only non-boarded up windows in the house that so happened to be above my bed, and since I was too lazy to close them, rays of sunshine shone directly at my face.

You know when you wake up early in the morning, but you want to go back to sleep but no matter how tired you are, you cannot for the life of you go back to sleep?

Yeah, that's me right now.

I groaned out loud as I threw the blankets off me and rolled out of my somewhat comfortable "bed" and onto the cold floor. I stared up at the ceiling for a while before finding the strength to standup. I yawn and look around the room for my four legged friend, but King was nowhere to be found.

"King?" I called out. I could hear a rhythmical thumping of steps coming up the stairs and King appeared in the doorway, whimpering. He ran out of sight from the doorway then appeared again before letting out a single bark and rubbing his muzzle with his paw. He looked up at me with a paw resting on his muzzle and I knew he needed to be let outside. I never taught him to do that. He just started rubbing his muzzle whenever he wanted to go outside and I eventually figured out his routine.

I yawned again before walking out of the room and down the steps to the front door. I let him outside into our closed off area and left the door open so he could come back inside and also because it was also a nice day.

I went back upstairs and remembered I had work today. I usually take the ten o'clock shift and work extra hours (like always) because I have nothing better to do. As I walked back up the steps to my bedroom, I glanced into a mirror on the wall and almost screamed. I slapped a hand over my mouth and looked closer into the mirror while cringing.

My hair was a total rats nest and super frizzy. I could even see dried drool on one side of my cheek. I had bags under my eyes and paint stained on my hands. Yikes.

After I left the bridge, I went down to a gas station that held showers and rinsed myself off. I wish I could say I was used to the showers there by now, but who could ever get used to using a shower with a mysterious mold growing around the shower head and drains clogged with hair? I shuddered at the thought.

I washed my hands about a million times, but the spray paint that stained my hands were still visible. It was faded, but it was there. Also, since I don't have a hairdryer, my hair was extremely frizzy from taking a shower without drying it. As for the dried Drool running across my cheek, I'm just a very gross and loud sleeper. I'm surprised no one has discovered my being here from all the sleep talking I do. No, let me rephrase that, it's more like sleep shouting. You here about people sleep talking in quiet mutters or whispers, but no. If I'm having a dream where I'm shouting at my mother to get toilet paper for me across the house while I'm trapped in the bathroom, then I shout it out just as loud as I would in the dream.

That's why I didn't really have sleepovers with my friends when things were normal. Every time I dreamt about the "cutest guy in school" or something equally as embarresing, my friends would never let me hear the end of it the next morning. One night, they even went as far as to whisper things into my ear while I was asleep to see what I would say about it in my sleep. They would get some of my deepest secrets out and when I caught them doing it once, I nearly killed them. Though, I decided to spare their lives... And instead I stole their bras in the middle of the night, got them wet, and put them into the freezer.

Hehehe... I'm so evil...

Anyway, using my T-shirt, I wiped off the drool and using a hairbrush I attempted to brush through my jungle of hair. It took a while, but eventually I got through every knot in my tangled hair and glanced back up into the mirror.