Memories

Memories: Chapter 2

"BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!”

I turned my head from the sky where the sun had taken the moons place — well was about to; the sun was still only just coming out from its hiding spot. My clock was telling me that it was five o'clock. I left the window-sill and stood on my numb legs. Then again — everything was numb. It had been for the last three months. My back was sore (like everything else) and my eyes were blood shot. I walked over to the digital clock. 

“Yeah, I get it, it's five, no need to remind me.” I muttered, unplugging the cable. The blue digital light went out and there was silence... like always. But I was used to it. I went to the bathroom. I turned on the shower, making it so hot that fog was already filling the room. This was probably going to raise the water bill a little higher than usual. I put my hair in a bun and stripped down to my birthday suit. The water burned when I stepped in the shower, but I just ignored it. I only just realized now how tight my muscles were. They were starting to relax — but only a little. If I let myself relax, something could happen, and in that one instant when I'm not aware, or alert or paying attention, it could all end and go away. I wouldn't let this happen again. Not again. 

As if the water didn't want me to relax either, the water grew hotter, burning my back and boiling into my spine. I stepped out quickly (or more like jumped out) and grabbed a towel to dry off with. The whole room was practically full of fog; there were visible clouds or smoky air near the ceiling. 

The mirror was all steamy and I couldn't see anything. With one hand still holding my towel, I wiped away the foggy cover that overlapped the image that I hated to see. I looked at myself in the mirror. The reflection that showed me what I looked like. That portal that showed me what the world saw when they looked. The picture of that familiar stranger. The thing that I never liked to look at. The thing that made my life what it was now. That thing was me.

“Who am I?” I wondered aloud.

Things were so much harder now. Work was harder. School was harder. Everything was harder. I had just walked out of the bathroom when I hadn't noticed how long I'd been in there for until my eyes met the digital numbers that blinked on the clock; now I only had twenty-five minutes to brush my hair, brush my teeth, throw on some clothes, get my things for school, eat some breakfast, and get to work on time. Great.

I dropped my towel at my feet and ran to the drawer and grabbed a bra and underwear, pulling them on (did I mention clumsily?) as fast as I possible. I yanked open the closet's wooden doors that screech against the floor, disapproving of my sudden appearance, and snatched a pair of black skinny jeans and a loose, green Old Navy tee, that hung as far as my jeans pockets. My feet thumped against the floor as I rushed into the bathroom where I hastily — and painfully — ripped the scrunchie out of my hair and quickly brushed the red messy thing that looked like a bird's nest more than hair. I wouldn't be surprised if I found a couple of eggs in there. When I was done brushing my somewhat-tidy hair, I put it back into to a more descent looking ponytail. 

I grabbed my tooth brush and squirted some toothpaste on it and didn't bother wetting it. I just brushed until I bled, then spit out the toothpaste-thingy-stuff into the sink. I rinsed out my mouth and ran back into my room. I hopped on one foot while trying to put a sock on the other, than unsuccessfully fell on my butt as I tried to switch feet. I pulled the sock on, and then jumped up to stick my feet in my Nike's. I ran down stairs and didn't bother having breakfast as I rushed out the door after snatching my keys. I locked the door in a hurry trying to keep my bag, that I had hastily slung on my back, from falling. I bolted for my car and — of course — ran smack into it. Of course. I had a slight tendency to be a klutz. Just a little bit. Just a tad.