“I was hoping you’d forget your way home,” my flatmate, Felicity, snapped from the leather lounge. Her laptop sat open as she read what looked like an online tutorial for one of her law classes. She was following in her daddy’s footsteps.
Something I hope I never do.
“I’m good with directions. Sucks to be you, huh?” I left her in the lounge, and limped along to my room.
Her snide voice followed me. “What happened to you? Did your suicide attempt fail?”
My shoulders stiffened and my feet faltered a step. The annoyance I felt from the stellar start to my day had just upgraded to downright pissed.
Without sparing a glance in her direction, I shot out my retort, “I’ve just had the best marathon sex session of my life. If you’re able to walk after sex, then you’re not doing it right.” I looked back at her over my shoulder. Felicity’s mouth was wide open, and disgust twisted wrinkles into her face. “Never mind, Flick. Someone will take pity on you, someday.” Her face paled as her mouth snapped shut.
I retreated behind my bedroom door, feeling marginally better, and disgusted in myself at the same time. I’d been cruel.
It was necessary.
The wonderful smell of lavender assailed my senses. A flimsy wooden door and the smell I grew up with, these were the only two things I found comforting about this room. I missed the feeling of belonging somewhere. Being able to come home, and throw your feet up on the couch because it was yours. Having someone to offload all your crap to, because you knew they’d return the favour. That person had always been my granny.
When she broke her hip a couple of years ago, she felt it was time to move into a retirement unit, where nurses were available at the push of a buzzer. I knew I couldn’t look after her, and still keep a full-time job. And I needed to work to help pay the bills. It was the best thing for her, but it was the beginning of a spiral of shit for me. I didn’t want to be selfish or needy, but I was devastated to lose my home. Being separated from my only family caused a fault line in my foundations that I didn’t know how to patch.
I thought this room was the answer to my prayers. A bargain price for quality accommodations. She’d probably had to drop the price due to the bitch factor.
The sunlight filtered in through the window above my queen-sized bed, reflecting off the almost white walls. Moving to the bedside table, I took a couple of painkillers, and switched on my lava lamp. I found them so mesmerizing. And Flicker hated it, so I loved it.
Placing my gear on the chest of drawers, I reached into one of the drawers to grab some underwear. My hands paused before finding their prize. Things had moved. She’d been through my things again. My eyebrows slammed down. What the fuck was she looking for among my knickers and bras? Drugs? Money? Incriminating evidence? It wasn’t as if she could borrow my clothes, she’s half my height and twice my girth. I hated living like this. I couldn’t trust her to leave my stuff alone. If I thought seeing dead people was going to send me off the deep end, I clearly didn’t account for this single, white female.
I grabbed what I needed, and headed down the hallway to the bathroom. The skin on my back prickled with the force of daggers that flew from Flick’s eyes. I really needed those painkillers to kick in. Ten minutes and I could be out the door again to get some breakfast before work. No way was I going to use the kitchen with her staring me down.
In the shower, I hung my head and let the warm water help soothe the pain as the medicine did its thing. I let out a deep sigh into the towel, before I turned my back to the mirror, twisting around so I could inspect the damage. A big purple bruise had started to form on my tail bone. It looked like I wouldn’t be sitting down much today.
I dried myself quickly, and dressed for work. With sore hands and no time, I didn’t bother with hair or make-up. Instead, I made sure I’d packed up everything. I didn’t want to get comfortable here, or give her an excuse to complain about my stuff cluttering up her space. I was like a ghost. Ironic. Nobody knew I lived here, unless they looked in my cupboards.
With my arms loaded, I opened the door, jerking at the sight of Felicity waiting like a lioness about to pounce. My towel slipped off my shoulder, falling to the floor.
"I hope you're going to pick that up," she spat at me.
I cleared my throat to refrain from swearing at her. "What is it, Flick?"
"Don't call me that, it's so juvenile."
Yeah, it suits you.
I bent down to get my towel, gaining an eye full of fake toenails. Ugh. Standing back up to face the wrath pouring off her, I quirked my eyebrow, waiting for the tirade.
Her baby-blue eyes narrowed at my insolence. She had the ‘unimpressed face’ down pat. It was a shame she didn’t realise how it twisted her pretty features. She took a big breath, and crossed her arms over her designer blouse. "I'm having a party for all my friends tonight. You’re not invited. Don't bother coming back after work." With a satisfied smirk, she turned on her heel and walked back to her laptop, toe nails clicking on the tiles.
Un-fucking-believable. The pounding in my head returned, amplified. This was becoming a weekly occurrence. I wasn’t allowed in my own home. Because it wasn’t really my home. It was just a place to
