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Minutes pass like seconds when you're not paying attention. When you're half asleep and unaware of your surroundings. I realized that as I lay on my stomach on the floor next to my bed, furthest from the door. Why, you ask, am I doing this? Well, it's simple. I'm supposed to be fast asleep, cute little sleepy Allie-chan, instead of doing what I'm doing now. Laying on my stomach, swinging my legs behind me, typing up this random thing for whomever wastes their life by reading it.
It's 5:26AM on October 10th, 2010. My stomach hurts from lying on it so long, the pile of clothes I'm leaning against is pressing my chest practically to my ribs, and the stuffed dragon Sammy lays on his side next to me, nose buried in the bottom of my lion slippers. As I tuck my hair behind my ear, the fan blows the empty space where my goody-goody self would be lying right now, hugging her fluffy pillow to her chest. But that's not me anymore. I'm the one laying here, hoping I don't get caught, oblivious as to whether Mom's sleeping for work tomorrow afternoon or watching TV, or if Dad's playing World of Warcraft, watching SportsCenter, or snoring against his pillow.
These are the things I write about at 5:30 in the morning, things that won't matter five minutes from now. Typing aimlessly on notepad, listening to Kerli on YouTube, and begging someone to post something so I can check my messages on deviantART.
Finally, I bring myself to sit up and check to see if light is still spilling from beneath my door, the indication whether I should crawl back over my bed to lay on my stomach some more, or make myself comfortable in my bed and pull out my sketch book for some late night drawings. A faint light spills through the small cracks, and from sitting in front of the artificial light of technology for so long, I'm unsure whether it is to be light from down the hall, or the nightlight just around the corner in the bathroom. I open my door as quietly as possible -- which isn't very quiet, to be honest -- and mentally cheer that it was the nightlight. I slip into the bathroom for a quick potty break, mainly just as an excuse for opening my door in case one of the parentals is half-awake.
As I'm in there, I look at myself in the mirror; dark blonde hair, a bit greasy from the day's lack of shower, smeared eyeliner, black camisole with bright blue bra straps contrasting with each other. The same necklace hangs from my neck as it has for God only knows how long. I never take the thing off. I look into my reflection's eyes, then to my left cheek. I imagine a bruise laying there, brown and yellow, although it isn't really there. It may as well have been, though. The blow I'd taken a few days ago didn't really hurt physically, but....It was enough to topple my self esteem over a bit more. I think the strongest emotion that showed in my eyes, aside from fatigue, was probably lonliness. How long had it been since I'd had TRUE fun with someone? A few months, at least, since my last trip to Illinois. Sure, the other times since then, with Tory and Lauren and Devin, those were fun, but....I kind of missed the empty-mindedness that came with the joy of hanging out with your best friend for four days.
Sighing, I tucked my chopped off bangs behind my ear, just to have them fall right back against my glasses. A new habit I'd taken up, but it was better than chewing my nails, I suppose; even if I still did do that. I made my way back to my room, shutting the door with the quietness it was capable of- wood scraping against wood, then the final click of the slidey thingy in the other thingy. Ahh, how I despise not knowing words I need to use. I could Google it, but I'm too lazy. So, now it's 5:57AM. I'm laying in my bed, typing this meaningless ramble into notepad, listening to Tokio Hotel and Kerli, and IMing my Auntie Amber, who actually isn't my Aunt. Imaginary aunt, one who I actually wished I was related to. It'd be better than the douche bags I have for parents, that's for sure.
Well my friends, that's a story for another time. For now, I bid you farewell, and I hope to see you again. Although, is it truly 'seeing' when it's over the glorious interweb? I don't believe it is, but either way, I'd love to speak with you. Become friends with me, and you may love it or hate it, or maybe some other unknown emotion I won't be able to classify. But for now, I'll cease my empty words that probably won't be seen by the eyes you have glued to the computer screen, and finally, at 6:01AM, say goodbye.