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Just a few hours. I repeated it in my head like a mantra. As my eyes closed and I'm sure I even muttered it under my breath. Just a few hours. Maybe it would be three maybe it would be four. This was supposed to be so simple. Get in and get out. My clothes would be dry. Mr. Phoenix and his sons would be sleep. The sun would barely be rising. A ghost. I'd simply be something they conjured from their own minds.
Simple. Simple. Simple.
Nothing was ever simple. I don't know how it happened. I don't even remember being that tired. Feeling that exhausted. I went to sleep and the clock had shown 2:15 AM. I awake. My eyes stuck with crust. My body feeling like it's been shut down for days. The room was still dark. I stretch violently. Whale sounds escaping me. Just a few hours. I looked to the digital clock.
4:05 PM
The red light was mocking me. This had to be a joke. A terrible dream. How could I have slept so long? How did my body actually succumb to rest? How did my mind shutdown for so long? I didn't even dream. I didn't even have a nightmare. Nor a flashback. It was pure untouched sleep. Something I had been longing for.
It couldn't be this simple.
The black comforter was still wrapped around me. The warmth inviting in comparison to the cool air in the room and the fan blowing out cool air on the desk. I find myself not wanting to get up. But I have to. My bones crack and I groan in protest. Rylie's top bunk was made up. It's patron gone. I flick the light switch nearest to the bed.
The walls were a dark green. Video game posters and bands on the walls. I hadn't really heard of them but from what little I knew they were mainly relevant in the 70's and 80's. He had good taste for someone his age, I suppose. He had a desk pushed to the farther end by a large window covered by a dark curtain. He was very clean. I was pleasantly surprised.
Feeling the urge to use the restroom I leave the room. Walking to where I remember the bathroom was. Much like the downstairs the decor was the same but the messiness and smell made it obvious it had male occupants. The different body washes on the sink, colognes, and the rumpled underwear by the floor made me twist my nose. I think I had a tick for tidiness. Everything had a place.
It was quiet. I could faintly hear voices coming from below but I couldn't pinpoint whether or not they were from a TV or actual people. I knew I would have to go down there. It was the polite thing to do. It was courteous. It made me feel queasy. I twist my hands and bite down on my lip in nervousness. I had slept the whole day away. I missed my window of opportunity. Mr. Phoenix probably thought that meant I'd be staying.
The hardwood was cold on the bottom of my feet. The sun was still up but ready to take it's leave. Everything had a place and this wasn't mine. I carefully walk down the steps. The open gaps in between made me feel as though I needed to take extra precautions. They were all seated around the couch. An action movie playing on the large flat screen.
