Broke-Ish [Completed]

Chapter 15

My head feels like I've ran into a brick wall face first and I have neither the strength or desire to lift my head off the pillow. I can hear my phone persistently shaking the bed and the light from the screen flickering in the corner of my eye is teasing my headache. I clamp my eyelids shut and blindly pat my hands around me until I locate the phone and throw it to the bottom of the bed, why it has deciding to slide off the bed skier style and vibrate against the floor boards is beyond me. Then my door knocks, no it doesn't knock, it opens and somebody is now making their way down my hall way. Can't be mom she's out visiting a friend in Cornwall for a few days, weekend trains don't start running until after 10am I'm sure of it, there's no way she'd be back already, which means its someone else. I made a brief escape that day in car park of the Mowdon Inn, it seems the grim reaper is not done with me yet

Of all the ways to die I never thought this would be it. Despite my average life I always thought my death would be something interesting, spectacular, admirable even. Olive, died saving a family from a pack of wild dogs or Olive, died in a zip line accident in the tropical rain forests of Costa Rica with her tour guide/lover David pronounced Dav-eeed. Not Olive, suffocated to death in own bed next to a bent earring and an empty pizza box. I know it to be empty as I woke a few hours ago with all the hope of those people who manically scratch at their scratch card whilst still at the till, feeling deep down in their soul and purse that they had a winner only to be left disappointed.

The footsteps get closer, light, frantic, psychopathic footsteps and I want to ask who's there but if I'd broken into someone's house to kill them and they asked "Who's' there" I have to say, I'd be a little reluctant to answer. Maybe that's it though, my mind always goes immediately to murder, to death, the act of killing and being killed, maybe they're just going to rob me. But other than the TV, which is on its way out, there's nothing of value in this flat so jokes on them. A smile creeps across my face against the duvet I pulled over it to shield me, what a complete waste of time it is walking into my place to rob me. I have nothing.

I can hear that a hand has been placed on by bedroom door handle and my smile vanishes. I pull the duet further and further over my head until my quivering toes are now poking out of the bottom. I hold the duvet firm as the footsteps get closer, whispering what I can remember of the Lords Prayer.

"What the hell are you doing?"

A voice, a voice I recognise, I slowly pull the duvet down to see Kara's amused face staring back down on me.

"And its hallowed be thy name not hello be thy name,"

"I don't care what it is, I'm alive!" I jump up and my hangover hits me across the head forcing me back down. "How did you get in?"

Kara dangles my keys from her index finger, "You left these in the door, all night!"

I drag my hand down my face in despair, I wish I could say this was the first time. I should not be allowed to drink.

"Why are you even here? " I ask.

"Charmin',"

"No it's just, you're never here, like ever,"

"I left my phone in your bag remember, after we left that third bar,"

"There was a third bar?"

"There was a fifth bar,"

"Wow,"

"And I called Jasmine's landline and asked her to let you know I was coming,"

"A landline? Who has a landline nowadays,"