Calvin

PART ONE

Dear Beatrice

The last time I wrote to you was almost three months ago when we made those silly New year's resolutions like old sots, just to break them the very next day. In all honesty, it doesn't even seem that long ago. Gosh the memories...

But as you know B... life happened. It's extraordinary what can happen when you are moving on with your life, as you so articulately kept reminding me. I'll save you all the boring crap and skip straight to the juicy bits, pun intended. I know how much you love all the skinner stories

So, to start this little adventure, let me take you back a few weeks ago, to one faithful Saturday morning where I woke up with THE MOTHER OF ALL hangovers. You know the ones we used to get back in college? Those I could handle, they were nanoscopic compared to this one. This one felt like I was a part of the Wolf Pack. Being stuck in a ridiculous mantra where Zack fucken-Galifianakis kept on drugging me before we'd go on a stupid adventure. Yeah, yeah, I know you love that movie. But that cherry, was nothing compared to my looming Katy Perry moment.

The sound of an irritating beep kept petitioning in the background as I tried my best to will my body to move and attend to it but failed measly for what felt like an eternity. The sound however, got louder and louder, and quite frankly so did the headache. Willing a limb or something to move, my arm decided to heed my call, knocking the blaring device somewhere across from wherever the hell I was. The loud bang the device made as it cracked against the walls, tore my eyes wide open. I silently cried and prayed that it wasn't my cell phone, cause if it was, that one didn't even last a whole month.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips, as I groaned taking whatever strength I had left in an attempt to atleast sit upright. It took a while, but I finally mastered it, trying to concentrate on doing one thing at a time. I'm a grown ass man, but have yet to master the skill of multi-tasking. My eyes where next, blinking miserably at the natural light. However, the moment my eyes fully opened, sending unrecognizable images to an unregistering brain, the nightmare started. Well I guess it actually did the previous night, but I couldn't remember a thing.

The bed I was lying in, was larger than life. Even at 1.86m, that's what 6 feet and some inches, I was no match for this bed. My large feet, hidden beneath the plush white comforter, barely reached the end. I was too mesmerised by the sheer size and utter comfort, that it took me a while to take in my surroundings. The room was massive. Like Who-Wants-To-Be-A-Millionaire massive. The dark oak drawer on the other side of the room was enormous. The two doors on each side of it, which I assumed lead to the bathroom and walk-in closets where massive. Even the freakin iMac on the desk in the corner was gigantic.

The curtains were a dark grey, almost black, for which I was grateful for. It kept the prying sunlight out, but still light up the room enough for me to see somewhat. The soft looking carpet was off-white, matching the walls which were painted pepper grey. My favourite colour was however mostly covered in posters of well-known sport stars and some half naked chicks that looked like Hugh Heffner's house bunnies. Ha... bunnies! There so cute. And fluffy, and cuddly... Uhm where was I? Oh, right the room. There was also a large entertainment set on the right complete with a bookshelf filled with DVD's and PS4 games instead of books.

I hummed in content as the comfort of the luxurious bed won me over, willing me back to sleep. Right before I was about to close my eyes and give in to the tranquillity of it all, realisation struck, worse that the fucking hangover that still loomed. And the why it took my so long to get to that point, a consequence of my dire state, came nevertheless. I was relieved that my occasionally malfunctioning so called mathematical genius of a brain could atleast distinguish the difference, but it was short lived. The room I was in, wasn't mine.