To Breathe or Not to Breathe...

By L1b3ra

17.7K 473 71

Ever since Emily Daley moved out of her house after turning eighteen, she's been looking for a job. So far, n... More

Note to readers
Chapter One: Discovery
Chapter Two: Bubble Gum and Monkeys
Chapter Three: I Hate My Awkwardness
Chapter Four: Lions?
Chapter Five: No Deaths Allowed
Chapter Six: I Should Have Gotten Life Insurance....
Chapter Seven: "Speak At My Funeral?"
Chapter Eight: Steal my phone, I steal your heart
Chapter Nine: "Hi. I'm your new partner."
Single? Not?
Is it just me or is this competition?
"My name is Inigo Montoya, and may I just say..."
Alexander the Grape
In which I Fall in Love with a Jackal Headed God
When life gives you nothing
Tyypos are hte bane of ym existence
In which I go shopping with a hedgehog
I hope my two guy friends don't kill each other...
Mortal enemies? Something more?
Spiderwebs and Lemon Drops
An Untimely Announcement
We're doomed
In which a very sheepish author apologizes very profusely
Hitler is a Scary Man
In Which the Wicked Witch of the West Helps me Escape
A Sunrise of Death

You know what? No.

304 11 4
By L1b3ra

Great. Greatgreatgreatgreatgreat.

Not only was Hitler and his army of Nazis going to murder me tonight, but on top of that I was late for work

Hmm. Late for my impending death. Maybe that wasn't so bad.

BUT NO. Mr McPhee had SPECIFICALLY TOLD ME to come half an hour early today so he could show me what was what with the new exhibit. This could be essential information that would help us keep the Nazis contained long enough to enact... whatever plan Ahk and Nathaniel had come up with while I had been distracted. 

I skidded to a stop in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. Oh nonononoNO! NO! I looked like a dead squirrel!! Or, my hair did. My face was more along the lines of "boiled fish expression". And was I wearing orange and pink?

Ahhhh!! This was a disaster!

I grabbed a brush, dragging it through my hair and yelping as my curls snarled and tangled it. "Ow! Stupid, stupid hair! Why are you so CURLY? STUPID ITALIAN HERITAGE! MOM? I'm talking to YOU! Why couldn't you just SKIP giving me THIS?"

I glared at the ceiling, but apparently my mom didn't have anything to say. Nothing happened. 

"Wow. Guilty silence, huh? I see how it is."

I continued my desperate brush attempts, simultaneously hopping over to my dresser for a different outfit. Where was that stupid shirt I had bought last week? It was so cute, and I had wanted to wear it to work sometime. Green was my color, and Ahk -- er, people, um, no. What I meant was, it would be good to look nice. That was professional, right? Looking nice at work. Yeah!

"OWWWW!!" On my way to the dresser, I stepped on a freaking lego. What was it doing there? I don't know. I certainly didn't put it there. I DON'T BUY LEGOS! But somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, one ended up under my foot. 

If you have never stepped on a lego, it will be impossible to describe to you the pure and unbearable agony that comes from such an experience. This is something I would not wish on my greatest enemy. In fact, my mother and I always used to joke about the villains in our favorite books or shows, saying stuff like, "Ughhh, I hope he gets what's coming to him." "I hope he dies a painful, terrible death surrounded by sharks and alligators while tied to an active hive of bees." "I hope he drowns in quicksand." "I hope he steps on a LEGO!" Then we'd both look at each other after the last one, and say, "No. That one's too terrible."

Suddenly enraged, I glared up at the ceiling. That's where the lego came from. "OH. Was THAT your answer? Thanks a lot, Mom. No apology. No, 'sorry I ruined your life by giving you curly hair'. NOPE! Instead, I get a LEGO! Fine. I'm not talking to you for a really long time."

Apparently, she wasn't talking to me either.

Yeesh.

I finally finished getting my new outfit on, and kept trying to tame my hair. "I'm late I'm late I'm late I'm late I'm late I'm late I'm late," I mumbled under my breath, trying to motivate myself to move even faster. "OH STARS. I forgot my makeup!!"

Then I stopped. I glared at my reflection. Then I banged my head against the adjacent wall in frustration. "I can't believe I'm worrying about makeup at a time like this!"

But I still got out my makeup bag. I hurriedly started applying my mascara, but then my hand jerked involuntarily and I stabbed myself in the eye. "OW!" I wailed, for the third time in the past two minutes. "You know what? No. I GIVE UP. I am going to work and I will look like a dying woodland creature. IT'S FINE. It's not like I ever had a change with a freaking amazing, nice, adorable pharaoh anyway." 

*****

I got to work half an hour late for being half an hour early. So, on time, for a normal day. But that didn't matter. I was still late. 

When I got into the museum, Nat stood up from his perch on a bench, shooting me a what the heck look. "Where have you been?"

"Sorry, sorry," I mumbled. "I'm an idiot."

Nathaniel sighed. "No, you're not." Then he looked closer. "Wow. You look really tired."

I knew that was code for, You are a total mess tonight. "Thanks. I know. I am."

He bit his lip. "Okay, well... Em, you do realize the sun's about to set."

I panicked. "What? No!! It always takes longer..."

"It's almost winter. The days are shorter. The point is, Em, we have to secure everything, we have to get started. We don't have time to go over the plan. I'll get started, you go to the other side of the museum and secure your part."

"What?" I could feel my breath coming short and fast. "Nat, I don't-"

"I'm sorry. We really don't have time. Be careful. Stay safe." Nathaniel had disappeared down the corridor before I could stop him.

"Wait..." I whispered uselessly, leaning against the wall and sinking to the floor. Tears stung at my eyes, and I bit my lip. Why couldn't I have just listened to the plan last night? I don't even know what we're doing. I suck. 

And the sun sank below the horizon.

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