Untitled - The Writers Book

3. Theathetalkalot

An hour passed. And then an hour more. A small nap quickly lapsed into a mini hibernation, as the sun sloped through the sky, the twighlighty dusk streamed in through the bare window. I blinked my eyes open, watching white specks twinkle around the room, like dry snow, small and entrancing.

Eventually, I moved and as I lifted myself off of the matress, the metal bed frame groaned in dispair, as I stepped onto the floor, the floorboards creaked under my weight. Even the door squeaked in a stray breeze, and it felt like the whole house protested against my arrival. I let my mind wonder as I paced the length of my room, thinking back to when Mum was the one who lived here.

I wonder if that ever drove Mum crazy? I thought to myself as another floorboard screamed. I could already feel it crawling under my skin.

My few items definitely made the room more homely, I thought, in a summer camp -I'm-only-staying-here-for-one-week kind of way. A small photo of Mum and I sat on the bedside table, right next to my favourite book that she had bought me when I was eight. Even the threadbare, moth eaten blanket that I had pulled out of the closet helped to make this new room feel like a place that I was welcome in, a place that was mine.

I settled, groaning, on the window seat and hit my head gently against the cool glass, watching my breath form a little cloud as I breathed. The dusk had already slipped into darkness, and the lights that flickered on in the harsh city skyline glowed like candles in a sea of ink, like stars on a cloudless night, reminding me of where I once was, and where I used to be.

Laughter rang out in the silence of the biting summer night, it was colder than the average August evening, but we were determined to have one last moment of rebellious fun before the season ended completley. The soothing slap of water on wood as we paddled soothed our anxious chatter and our nervous tapping, soon we were lying back and staring at the sky, counting the uncountable stars-

I shook my head and as a result, nearly jerked myslef off of the seat in an attempt to scrub my mind clear of the memory, and as I clung on with my fingers twisted around the fabric of the seat, I listed all the reasons that I shouldn't reminisce. Before my mind wondered again, I got up and followed my nose down and down and down the three flights of stairs that lead to the kitchen, all the way to the Chinese food that was sat in the warm oven. Five cabinets later, I found a plate, and three draws later, I found a spoon that I then used to pile egg fried rice, sweet and sour chicken noodles and numerous spring rolls onto my dish. Nibbling at one of the prawn cracker that I had sprinkled on top (you know, for balance), I made my way back up to my corner of the world.

Once I set my plate down, I flopped onto the protesting bed again, and pulled out my laptop to load Netflix. The old thing whirred and made a loud ding as it 'started up', but the screen quickly froze before turning black again. I tried five times, and eventually gave up, letting out a muffled groan with my mouth full, slamming the lid shut and pushing the laptop under my bed.

  It didn't matter anyway, I thought angrily, There's no wifi.

Hi guys!

So I know that you probably don't care, but this is my first published work! If by some one in a million chance you liked it, comment below and I might start a book on my profile. Maybe some poetry (I know ugh) or some other fiction, as I have ideas ready to go!

Thank you for reading!

Thea x

P.S I'm sorry about any spelling mistakes!