Dear John

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

9:45 am

The next morning I woke up with the sun in my face. I groaned in annoyance while grabbing my blanket and pulling it over my head. I closed my eyes and tried to grasp at the dream I was having but to no avail. This made me even more annoyed.

I'm already groggy when it comes to something waking me up and the fact that the dream -the wonderful dream -that had preoccupied my mind was forever lost, ticked me off. On top of that it was a Sunday. And I had planned to spend said Sunday in my bed but for some reason the world would not let me be.

It's as if the world was saying 'It's time for you to go forth into the world and find yourself'

Ha, good luck with that

As hell I was going outside and frolic about like some person on crack. No thank you. My bed seemed more comfortable and besides it had already begun snowing and as much as I liked to explore the world I'd rather be comfy inside.

All these thoughts flittered through my head as I swung my foot over the bed. It was no use in trying to go back to sleep when I was pretty much wide awake. That's the thing if something wakes me, I could never go back to sleep.

Stupid sun.

A yawn left my lips as I stretched and made my way across the room and through the threshold of the bathroom. With only one thing on my mind I quickly turn on the shower and wait for it to get warm before hopping in and taking a much needed bath.

I hummed along to a song that had stuck in my mind as I began shampooing my hair.

After about ten more minutes in the shower, I finally step out and make my way back to the room. My fingers gripped the towel that's around my body as I continue to look for an outfit for today. Most likely, I would end up wearing sweats and a tank top.

As I was about to grab the clothing mentioned earlier, my phone began to ring. I picked it up and placed it between my shoulder blade and ear as I tried to multitask.

"Hello?" I ask while hopping on one foot to put on my undergarments.

"Ms. Pascal, this is Theresa from the church. I'm calling to remind you about the outing today. Don't forget we leave at eleven sharp and don't forget to bring the cookies you said you were going to bring. Okay, bye for now" The woman says not even giving me time to reply before she ends the call.

What the actual fudge?

When was this outing even planned, more importantly, when did I agree to bring cookies? It seems that my plan to stay home and relax has been squashed. I looked longingly at the sweats and tank top before pulling my phone from the small space.

I looked at the time and my eyes widen.

10:25 am

I had approximately fifteen minutes to get ready and at least twenty minutes to reach the church. I groaned for what seem like the third time for today. It seems that's all I've been doing for the past months. Moping around, too consumed within my venomous thoughts to notice what's going on around me.

For example, the outing; I had no memory of agreeing to go.

Sighing, I push through my clothes searching for something decent to wear. What should I wear? Most importantly I didn't even know where we were going. What if I showed up looking too casual or too formal?

Everyone would probably laugh at me.

Ugh, good job Nova. Leave it to you to never pay attention.