We Met at the Morgue
May 17th, 2009; Dennis and Happy Birthday
I sipped on my coffee and sighed. This year my birthday landed on a Monday. I'm like Garfield, I hate Mondays. It's not because Mondays are the days that are right after the weekend, but my roommate/co-worker, Dennis, is the hardest to wake up on Monday. Walking out of my room I yelled for Dennis.
"Wake up sleeping beauty!" I called. Across the hall was his room, his door was labeled with band stickers and random writing. "Dennis!" I yelled as I knocked on his door. I went to turn the knob when from behind me, right in my ear I hear, "Happy Birthday, Princess Sadie!"
I jumped, screamed, and hit Dennis in the face out of shock. He turned holding his red cheek.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," I said and gave him a tight hug.
"It's fine, I should use to it," He whined. I've known Dennis since collage. He's very...spazzy and spunky. He likes to sneak up on you and give hugs. As my depression worsened, Dennis's sunshine world became brighter. At first when I met Dennis I thought he was a jock, basketball player type of guy. His hair is really light brown and his eyes are a dark brown, his skin in naturally tan, and he's rather tall. I asked his height and he said 6'5, he's probably grown about two more inches. With his height, he's skinny, like a twig. He looked like the jock type, but he hates sports. He likes metal music, screamo, rock, and anything he can jump around to. Like me, he has an interest for gore and dead things.
"Anyway," Dennis took his hand off of his cheek, "Happy Birthday my old Princess. How does it feel to be ancient?" He asked. That's our jock, you can be turning five and we'd call you old.
"Aren't you older than me? If I'm ancient, then you're dust," I laughed and hugged him. "We have to get ready for work," I informed him. Dennis and I work at the Garden City Morgue. We're surrounded by dead people all day, six days a week, from 11:00am to 9:00 at night.
"No! Not yet!" Dennis cried and dragged me down our narrow hallway.
"Come on Dennis, we're going to be late, again, the Dragon will be pissed!" I shrieked back. The Dragon, also known as Mr. Hawlray, is our boss. He's st ricked and likes structure, but he's hardly ever around to make sure everyone is doing what they're suppose to do. Unless you make a loud noise or you're late, he doesn't come out of his office. He's somewhere in his mid-two-hundreds (sixty-seven) and has no family that we know of. He's skinny and tall with a no hair on his head, wrinkles cover his face and body, and he has the grayest, lifeless eyes I've ever seen on a human being. The Dragon likes to pick on Dennis, but I know he has a secret soft-spot or him. It sounds weird because it's Mr. Hawlray, but if he didn't then Dennis would've been fired a long time ago.
"Sadie, how many times have we've been late?" Dennis asked me while dragging me into the kitchen.
"More times then we should be," I stopped to laugh and looked at our small dinning room table. A small, serving plate sat in front of me with a double chocolate cupcake. One barely burning, green candle was lit and Dennis wouldn't stop begging me to blow it out.
"I'll sing you happy birthday after work, just blow it out!" He screamed with an eagerness. I smiled and made a wish anyway. My wish is the same wish as it's been every year since I fell for Frank.
"I wish I could lay in Frank Iero's arms, just once, before I die," And I would blow out my candles, or, candle. Dennis jumped up and down like a little girl, clapping his hands and smiling.
"What did you wish for?" He asked with energy. My smile dropped to a more weak and suddle smile.
"I can't tell you or it won't come true," I answered. It never will come true though, will it?
"Wake up sleeping beauty!" I called. Across the hall was his room, his door was labeled with band stickers and random writing. "Dennis!" I yelled as I knocked on his door. I went to turn the knob when from behind me, right in my ear I hear, "Happy Birthday, Princess Sadie!"
I jumped, screamed, and hit Dennis in the face out of shock. He turned holding his red cheek.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," I said and gave him a tight hug.
"It's fine, I should use to it," He whined. I've known Dennis since collage. He's very...spazzy and spunky. He likes to sneak up on you and give hugs. As my depression worsened, Dennis's sunshine world became brighter. At first when I met Dennis I thought he was a jock, basketball player type of guy. His hair is really light brown and his eyes are a dark brown, his skin in naturally tan, and he's rather tall. I asked his height and he said 6'5, he's probably grown about two more inches. With his height, he's skinny, like a twig. He looked like the jock type, but he hates sports. He likes metal music, screamo, rock, and anything he can jump around to. Like me, he has an interest for gore and dead things.
"Anyway," Dennis took his hand off of his cheek, "Happy Birthday my old Princess. How does it feel to be ancient?" He asked. That's our jock, you can be turning five and we'd call you old.
"Aren't you older than me? If I'm ancient, then you're dust," I laughed and hugged him. "We have to get ready for work," I informed him. Dennis and I work at the Garden City Morgue. We're surrounded by dead people all day, six days a week, from 11:00am to 9:00 at night.
"No! Not yet!" Dennis cried and dragged me down our narrow hallway.
"Come on Dennis, we're going to be late, again, the Dragon will be pissed!" I shrieked back. The Dragon, also known as Mr. Hawlray, is our boss. He's st ricked and likes structure, but he's hardly ever around to make sure everyone is doing what they're suppose to do. Unless you make a loud noise or you're late, he doesn't come out of his office. He's somewhere in his mid-two-hundreds (sixty-seven) and has no family that we know of. He's skinny and tall with a no hair on his head, wrinkles cover his face and body, and he has the grayest, lifeless eyes I've ever seen on a human being. The Dragon likes to pick on Dennis, but I know he has a secret soft-spot or him. It sounds weird because it's Mr. Hawlray, but if he didn't then Dennis would've been fired a long time ago.
"Sadie, how many times have we've been late?" Dennis asked me while dragging me into the kitchen.
"More times then we should be," I stopped to laugh and looked at our small dinning room table. A small, serving plate sat in front of me with a double chocolate cupcake. One barely burning, green candle was lit and Dennis wouldn't stop begging me to blow it out.
"I'll sing you happy birthday after work, just blow it out!" He screamed with an eagerness. I smiled and made a wish anyway. My wish is the same wish as it's been every year since I fell for Frank.
"I wish I could lay in Frank Iero's arms, just once, before I die," And I would blow out my candles, or, candle. Dennis jumped up and down like a little girl, clapping his hands and smiling.
"What did you wish for?" He asked with energy. My smile dropped to a more weak and suddle smile.
"I can't tell you or it won't come true," I answered. It never will come true though, will it?