Genie in a Wine Bottle

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Currently working on publishing 'The Enforcer' and "Born for Royalty" and maybe even "Too fat for love." Whilst I'm also working on relevant sequels, I thought I might finish this story I started a while ago in my drafts and never finished. 

The good news is that I wrote 75% of this story and it's ready to go, so all I need to do is update once a week. bad news is - please remind me because I always forget. 

Updating every Monday (Insta: Imsooverpolice - slide into my DM's and remind me)

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"No, no no!" I stared in shock as he picked at the stone on the bottle. You don't do that, you just don't.

"What is he doing?" I asked out loud turning to the reflective mirror, "he's picking at my doorbell." I told myself, talking to myself was getting ridiculously common. I should see the doctor. I frowned, I really didn't like people doing that, just because there was  shiny stone on the bottle, it didn't mean you could help yourself for the jewel.

I didn't care that they would get it, because they can't, the jewel would never fall off, but it was the screeching sound every time he tried picking at it, and I knew what happened when they couldn't get it. They'd try throwing it and breaking the bottle to get the emerald, but the bottle, will never break. 

At least he hasn't called for me yet, actually it's been an awfully long time since someone's called for me, damn I'm losing my popularity.

I crossed my legs sitting down, resting elbow resting on her knee and then my chin resting on my palm sighing, this was shitty.  I watched the blue eye stranger still pick at it, damn he was persistent.  

"Maybe if he calls for me I could grant him a new brain." 

Here it goes

I noticed the change of awe to annoyance as he flung the bottle across the road, oh no. My whole head spun, everything on my walls falling down, bastard before I hit something hard, the sound vibrating off my walls like a doorbell and it slammed into the wet concrete. Oh great.

I was stuck in here please don't tell me I will be hardened into the ground. I hated being in the eye of the public.

"Hey Jerk! Come get me," I stood up yelling at the man that seemed so far away across the road. Just because I was a genie in a bottle, didn't mean I had no feeling.  Because I did, I had a whole lot of them. 

Someone needs to release me. I looked at the mess this caused and decided I would just leave it till I get disposed into a place that won't be disturbed for a long time. I really lied being in that garage of Joe's that was thirty years of peace and sleep. Why did he have to move houses and chuck all his 'junk' out, I was so not junk.

Maybe he forgot about me. But how could he.

I sighed, well, I was very forgettable. I was in a bottle wasn't I?

I relaxed against the wall stretching my legs out watching the bright lights pass me, the rows and rows of cars. I wonder what they were doing, where they were going. I bet they were going home to their families.

Families, what a strange term. But I guess it must be amazing to go home to other people you could speak to.

You can speak to me

No, speaking to my reflection doesn't count. Even though she was way prettier than me. 

Just as I was about to get comfortable and rest I felt myself being moved, "Oh no." I held onto the side of the wall looking up.