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November 11th, 2011 -PHONE

I wake up to the bright sun

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I wake up to the bright sun.
The rays of it shine through the windows. I groan as I regret not closing my blinds before going to bed the day before.

The few extra spared moments I could have had to myself gone in an instant. I roll over to the side of my bed reaching for my phone on the night table, realizing the absence of it. I become alarmed, and pray that he doesn't have a hold of it.

I get out of bed, my body aching from the bruises that formed overnight. On my knees, I look under my bed which could be cleaner than it is.

I see old theater tickets for movies that my friends and I went to watch, food wrappers, magazines of bathing suit models, and a whole bunch of other junk; still, no phone. I make a note to clean under here before it starts to have similarities to a landfill.

I stand up and walk to my dresser, look at my mirror, the reflection that it holds. A smirk starts to creep up on my face.

I run my hands down my body, taking into account all the bone, skin, details, curves, and dips. I'm the shit, and I know it. I can appreciate an alluring work of art when I see it. I almost forgot the whole purpose of me coming to my dresser.


My phone.


I open all the drawers, from top to bottom checking each and every onefor my phone. Still, it is not here. It can't be anywhere else, I've never put it anywhere else which means there is only one place it could be, With him.

Sighing deeply I run my hands through my hair almost pulling it out from the root. Not withering any more of my time I change my clothes for school. Sweats, something simple and reasonable for the season.

I put on my newest and cleanest pairs of shoes before exiting the room with my Jansport backpack. Carefully and quietly I walk down the steps, careful not to wake him.

I flip the kitchen light switch just to be reminded there is no light, the electricity bill hasn't been paid for months now. I open the blinds of one window just so I can see what's in front of me, instantly regretting it as I found myself with a fucked up kitchen.

Dirt, beer cans, and shattered glass everywhere. I can't live like this. Passing by the kitchen I see myself in the living room, that's where I find him.

Laying cold on the couch in his own fluid. The smell is almost unbearable, indescribable, how could someone ever live with themself like he does?

Beside the couch on the coffee table is where I find all I need from him, my phone. I pick up the device carefully so I don't wake him, grateful it's still in perfect condition.

I take no more time in this house and leave. Walking to the school building will only take me fifteen minutes. I like the walk because it's a good way to clear my head.

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