Bound To The Dead

Chapter 2- Normal?

Beep, Beep, Beep

I groaned in protest as I awoke to the all to familar drone of my alarm clock. Trying to preserve the last few moments of my morning, I burrowed under my pillow-in a vain attempt to drown out the noise. But it just seemed to be getting louder. So that was the end of my peaceful sleep. Of course I'd have to get up.

I hurled one of my pillows off the bed (which I'd have to pick up later anyway) and sat up on the remains of last nights disaster. I yawned as I slid off the destroyed bed and silenced the small torture device. I glared at the time: 7:30. On a Saturday. But my mother "insists".

I trudged sleepily into the bathroom to get ready. The same horrifying girl stared back at me from the mirror. My light green eyes remained bloodshot along with the bags under my eyes. And my long caramel brown hair was still a mess. Is makeup powerful enough to fix this face? I sure hope so.

After brushing my teeth (getting rid of my funky morning breath) and cleaning my face, I begun the long journey of painting my face. I don't usually prefer makeup or wear it often but this morning it was a necessity. I spent a good 15 minutes slathering on foundation, concealer, bronzer, and every other type of makeup you could imagine. But the makeup did it's job. I no longer resembled a zombie and I thankfully looked put together on the outside.

I shed my gross night clothes as I reached my overflowing wardrobe. A vintage T-Shirt was falling off a hanger so I decided to might as well wear it. I retrieved a faded pair of denim shorts from my dresser to match. To complete the outfit I topped it off with an old pair of converse. Not caring too much about my hair I brushed my hair out and pulled it up into my signature messy bun. I gave myself a once-over in the mirror and decided I looked good enough for today. Perfect...ish.

I turned around to access the damage from my rough night and shuddered at the memory of the dream. Well I've had worse nights I thought to myself. But I knew if I didn't have everything in pristine condition, I would face repercussions from my strict and OCD mother. I know- Double threat. As if she sensed my thoughts on her I heard "breakfast in 10" from downstairs. Knowing I didn't have much time, I quickly made my bed and straightened everything up. I was safe for today.

I grabbed my phone and checked a couple things before heading downstairs. As I headed down the steps I was greeted with the delicious aroma of pancakes and bacon. I hadn't realized I was starving until my stomach growled at the smell of food. Feeling my mouth begin to water, I followed the scent down to the kitchen where my mother was scrambling eggs.

I turned through the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Mom realizing I was there greeted me with a chirpy "Good morning sweetheart". I returned by saying "Morning mom" as I sat down at the table beside my annoying and bratty younger sister. I took a swig of water and texted Laura (my best friend) to see if she wanted to come to the mall with me.

I looked up to see Dad looking at me with a worried expression- which didn't happen often. " Are you okay? Did you have another nightmare?"

My nightmares were not a rare thing and when I was younger I had them more often and didn't handle them well at all. My worried parents didn't think it was a good sign so they decided to take me to the therapist. They had diagnosed it as stress and normal stuff like that. I was no therapist but I was smart enough to know that was not the real reason. So I was stuck going to Mr. Jones until I was 12. I still had the nightmares but I learned how to cope. As long as I pretended I was fine it kept me away from that dreaded office.