Chapter 2:
After pulling up to my cheap apartment on the outskirts of town, I payed the cab driver and fumbled upstairs in search for the rusty key used to open myself up to home. Although when you stepped into my apartment the word cozy wouldn't come to mind.
The carpet was beige with a few stains from the previous college students who last lived here. No many how many times I got down on my hands and knees to scrub the stains away they wouldn't disappear. My couch was black and it kind of contrasted the white walls. I had various quotes hanging up in picture frames not only because I liked them so much but to hid the holes in the wall that I hadn't had the times to fix.
I never caused them of course, the guys who lived here last did and the guy who ran the place here refused to patch them up. He was a gross guy himself, greasy black hair slicked back from oil, and a beer belly to match, along with his days old stumble. Living here was uncomfortable but I spent all my money on online college which meant this would be home until I found an actual job.
Nancy knew about my life, but she doesn't know how bad it is here. I hold pepper spray in my purse just so I can actually make it into my apartment still in tack.
As my eyes scanned across the room and to the left I had a very small kitchen, big enough for maybe two people, if that. The cabinets were all white along with the fridge, and microwave. Actually it was more of an off white, the only thing that wasn't white was the stove which was black.
I know how exciting right?
My room actually had various pictures and quotes everywhere. Along with my hope chest and journals I always wrote in. I want to become a well known author someday so I keep my journals always next to me. I even carry a small red journal with me in my purse.
My bed was a queen size bed, with a black comforter and blue pillows. I know I have a lot of black but I liked it.
My bathroom matched the off white paint in the kitchen. If I could have it my way I would add more color to make this seem more alive, but I needed a place to live and painting wasn't an option here. I never understood why though, this place needed to be happier. Every time I pull up to my place I'd get some what depressed that this is my reality, but I always hold hope that this is just the beginning, a rough patch until someone discovers my writing.
As I sat down on the bed and felt it dip down from my weight, my thoughts wandered to my parents and how much I yearned for them to be here with me. It hurts for me to know that they're probably disappointed in the way I'm living life. Chasing a career that pretty much ever goes anywhere unless I'm like Stephen King. Which I'm not even close, just a teenager girl with a wandering mind to escape the bull shit in life. I think of my moms light hearted laugh and how much I missed it. It always made me smile when I was never even in the mood too. She always supported me in my writing, loved reading every word, where my father told me to think of a plan B. He was a good man though, always just wanted the best for me. There's not a day goes by that I don't think of them, or how much I yearn for their hugs only parents could provide without saying anything.
Wet tears started dripping down my cheeks leaving their soft trail as they went. Isn't funny how little droplets can each tell a silent story that were to afraid to speak? Its weird thinking that just by water leaving your eyes is actually relieving pain from your body, even if you don't feel that it is.
I wimped away my tears and pulled the covers back, wanting a break from this day, and as I drifted off to sleep a pair of piercing blue eyes came to mind. Smiling sleepily when I knew it was the boy from the restaurant. I shook my head though I'm sure he was long gone from this small town by now.
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A/N: Sorry nothing to exciting happened in this chapter, but I'm back now and hoping to continue it with some more exciting chapters.
-Midnight_Writer97 (: