Labyrinth of Life

Chapter 7

The next few days go by repetitively, and before I know it, it's already May. Since it's no longer raining as much as it was the past few weeks, the air is finally starting to feel warm and it's officially starting to feel like spring. A bonus to the warm weather is that it's a Friday, so after work, instead of going straight home, I can find something to do first.

For the entirety of the week, I've barely seen Simone, because she normally leaves for work before I come home and because she returns home before I wake up in the mornings. And since I'm never home when Park is home, I still haven't gotten the chance to meet the man whose voice has been lingering in my ears whenever it's the middle of the night. After three consecutive nights of being woken up at two in the morning to the sound of my roommate and his companion of the night, I've learned that it's best to sleep with earphones on as a remedy to mask away the intruding voices.

From the night I moved in, I've heard a total of four different high-pitched voices come from the wall next to me; his, along with three distinctively different voices. There could have been more, but thanks to the help of my earphones, I was safely able to evade the constant sounds of pleasure of my roommate and his companions. I could have banged on the wall and told him and his ladies of the night to shut up, but I wasn't going to risk it. He could easily tell Simone he no longer wanted me living here and because it hasn't even been a full week since I moved in, it would be best to avoid getting kicked out at all cost. Despite the rude awakenings in the middle of the night, to my surprise, I've come to enjoy living away from both of my parents. But I must admit, I get sad whenever I think about the fact that I haven't spoken to either one of them in an entire week. Do they truly not care about how I'm doing on my own?

After I get ready for work, I decide to make myself some French Toast for breakfast. I'm not usually a fan of cooking a large meal every day, which is why breakfast is my favorite thing to make. Breakfast doesn't take too long to cook, and I always get full from whatever I make. Since I have some extra time this morning, I decided to make extra French Toast for both Simone and Park, both of whom aren't awake yet. Ever since I moved in here, whenever I make breakfast, I always make sure I cook a little extra for both of them, in case either sibling wants to eat it. I don't mind making extras mainly because when I lived with my parents, I would always make breakfast for both me and my mom before we left in the mornings. She works as an educational assistant at an elementary school, which means that she always leaves at the same time as me. If my dad hadn't left so early for work, I probably would have made him breakfast too. But since he works as a supervisor at a welding factory, he's always out of the house by five in the morning.

It doesn't take long for me to finish cooking breakfast, so once I'm done eating and I finish cleaning everything up, I leave for work like I've done this past week.

.X.

"It's the end of the week, are all the submissions for the jelly-bean guessing game in?" Dianne asked once she found me in between one of the aisles stacked with books. We usually alternate days with whoever is in charge of putting away the returned books, and today it's my turn.

Every few months, our library hosts a min-contest, where we fill a glass jar with candy, and whoever guesses the amount correctly, wins the entire jar. This time around, we decided to use jellybeans, unlike last time when the candy of choice was Jolly Ranchers. "Should we wait closer to the end of our shift? In case people want to still make guesses throughout the day," I suggested.

"I like that idea better. Plus, it's easier to go through all of the votes when we aren't as busy," Dianne agreed before she returned to the front desk.

It doesn't take long for me to put all the books away in their correct spots, but once my task is complete, I return to Dianne, who's seated at the front counter. "How has everything been at home? I feel like I haven't heard any absurd stories in a while," she amusingly inquired. I still haven't told Dianne that I moved out, mainly because it hasn't come up in conversation yet. But I guess now is a better time than any to tell her the truth. So, with a weak laugh I say, "Long story short, I don't live at home anymore."