Hand of Blood
Bleeding Mascara
When the album that I was listening to finished, I switched of my stereo and headed downstairs. I glanced quickly to the clock that was resting on the wall in the hallway, loyally informing me it was just after half two. I sighed as I moved through the living room, turning a blind eye to the complete mess that it was, and walking straight into the kitchen.
I walked up to each cupboard in turn and started looking through them, and then also turned my attention to the fridge. I started chewing my lip as I found most of them were near enough empty of interesting things to eat, and I hadn't exactly been left with the best stock of essential foods either. Shaking my head, I started to make a mental note of everything I would need for my survival, at lest for the next few days. Where I would find the money to live alone for a whole four weeks, I had no clue.
Deciding I had a now or never situation on my hands, I walked back through the living room, keeping my gaze in tunnel vision as I returned to the hallway. I quickly found my key hanging by the door and shoved it into my pocket. I think it was compulsory for me to make a trip to the local store a few roads away, which probably wasn't a bad thing as it would also get me out in the fresh air for a while. I always loved being outside, it seemed to calm me down a lot of the time.
I timidly turned back and finally turned my full attention to the living room. Most objects were out of place and I noticed there was a trail of glass across the center of the room, although I didn't remember throwing anything fragile. Completely trashed you could say. I frowned as I figured that I would just have to tidy it up later. I sighed lightly as my eyes settled on the coffee table, finding there was the usual stash of about £20 in the empty fruit bowl. Considering I had nothing else to use, I carefully walked around the broken glass and plucked the notes from the small bowl, placing them in my pocket along with my key and God knows what else I kept in there.
I moved back to the hallway and unlocked the front door. After one last look back in my empty home that I was stuck with for the next month, I pushed open the door and walked out into the cold air. As soon as the wind hit me, I shoved my hands into my pockets and started my trek down the quite lane that I had lived on my whole life.
Nothing had ever really changed around here. Same empty streets, same neighbours, same terrible curtains in next doors front windows. I had no doubt in my mind I would be here for the rest of my life. This was where I was going to grow old and grumpy, with wrinkles covering my forehead from the fact I never stopped frowning. I also didn't doubt the fact Id still be alone and accomplishing nothing by that time.
I paused suddenly as a low rumble travelled through the sky, followed by a loud thunder clap. The moment my face had turned curiously to the dark grey sky, large raindrops came crashing down onto my cheeks. I growled to myself and pulled my hood up over my head, lowering my gaze back to the cobbled road and digging my hands deeper into my pockets. I set off at a quicker pace than before, keeping my head bowed to the path ahead of me, despite it would make little difference now. That was my eyeliner ruined for the hundredth time today.
+
I lazily threw the cushions back onto the sofa, in some mild form of order. I wasn't trying to make it look pretty or perfect, just a little better than it did before hand. I had to take some pride in the appearance of the house, and if I didn't it would probably only cause more arguments when everyone got back. Something along the lines of 'You're too lazy for anything. You're so useless' was just a guess at what would be thrown at me, but probably an accurate one.
My gaze travelled over the broken glass scattered across the carpet that I had been avoiding all afternoon. This one I could blame on myself, as I knew for a fact I had been throwing things this morning, but it wasn't like my actions weren't provoked. I sighed distastefully and wandered across the room and into the kitchen, deciding that I really needed to clean it up or accidents would happen.
Finding the dustpan and brush under the kitchen sink, I walked back into the living room and gave the glass one last hard glare. Once I was satisfied it knew my dislike for it, I knelt down and started work on sweeping it up. After getting most of the glass directly infront of me, I swapped knees to move me closer to the rest of the broken fragments a little further away. Being the clumsy person that I am, I slightly lost my balance in the act and held out my hand in reflex, to stop myself from falling flat on my face. I winced as I felt a sharp pain shoot through my middle finger, causing me to drop the objects in my hands.
I cursed under my breath sitting back and examining the cut in my finger. I cringed as I put it into my mouth, the bitter taste of blood not going down well with my taste buds. I stood back up again and picked up the dust pan and brush from the floor, ignoring the shards that had fallen back onto the carpet. I walked into the kitchen and emptied the glass I had managed to pick up into the bin.
"That's enough cleaning, for one day," I sighed to myself as I discarded the plastic objects onto the kitchen work surface and marched out of the room. I would get round to the rest of the mess later. I did, after all, have all the time in the world on my hands.
I headed back to the stairs, my uninjured hand rummaging through all my pockets in search of a plaster. It wouldn't be unlikely for me to find one, as I had a habit of putting anything and everything into my jeans or hoodies as I fell across them.
I paused as my finger ran over a small, smooth object in my back pocket. I pulled it out and found it was a folded piece of paper, the inside revealing a space drowned in unorganised images and words; a flyer. It was the type that are always given out as freebies on the street to unsuspecting passers by, the poor souls left to get rid of the sheets probably hoping that you'll simply smile politely, put the paper in your pocket, and rediscover it at a later date. A plan that, I had just proved, worked.
Pausing as I reached the upstairs hall, I started to scan read the sheet to find it was advertising a local gig, which was enough to catch my attention. I quickly read over the line up and discovered that I actually recognised quite a few of the bands that were playing, from other random shows I had been to. Half of them weren't that bad. My eyes fell further down the page to land on the time and date of the event. I tilted my head as I worked out that it was being held tonight. I smiled lightly and shook my head. What were the chances?
It only took a moment to come to the decision that a gig would be good for me, and the fact that it was so close by meant I didn't have an excuse not to attend. It would just be an average relaxing yet energetic evening for myself. Content with my decision, I returned the flyer to my back pocket and continued my initial search for a plaster to protect my still throbbing finger.
After standing at in the dark hallway and going through about twenty other things in my pockets, I found out that they were one thing I didn't seem to have on me. I wandered down the hall and turned into the bathroom, and then moved across to the mirrored cupboard above the sink. I quickly found a plaster and wrapped it around the cut, which I realised was actually quite deep, and put some extra plasters into my pocket for future reference. I had a habit of being more than a little accident prone.
I sighed lightly as I strolled back out into the hall and returned to my bedroom. I turned on my stereo again, changed the CD, and increased the volume, allowing the upbeat sound of The Bouncing Souls to drain out the more irregular sound of the rain against my windows. I moved across to my bed and laid down in the large duvet, wrapping it over myself. Once I was completely comfortable I closed my eyes and allowed my mind to slowly slip away with the music, killing the hours until the concert.
I walked up to each cupboard in turn and started looking through them, and then also turned my attention to the fridge. I started chewing my lip as I found most of them were near enough empty of interesting things to eat, and I hadn't exactly been left with the best stock of essential foods either. Shaking my head, I started to make a mental note of everything I would need for my survival, at lest for the next few days. Where I would find the money to live alone for a whole four weeks, I had no clue.
Deciding I had a now or never situation on my hands, I walked back through the living room, keeping my gaze in tunnel vision as I returned to the hallway. I quickly found my key hanging by the door and shoved it into my pocket. I think it was compulsory for me to make a trip to the local store a few roads away, which probably wasn't a bad thing as it would also get me out in the fresh air for a while. I always loved being outside, it seemed to calm me down a lot of the time.
I timidly turned back and finally turned my full attention to the living room. Most objects were out of place and I noticed there was a trail of glass across the center of the room, although I didn't remember throwing anything fragile. Completely trashed you could say. I frowned as I figured that I would just have to tidy it up later. I sighed lightly as my eyes settled on the coffee table, finding there was the usual stash of about £20 in the empty fruit bowl. Considering I had nothing else to use, I carefully walked around the broken glass and plucked the notes from the small bowl, placing them in my pocket along with my key and God knows what else I kept in there.
I moved back to the hallway and unlocked the front door. After one last look back in my empty home that I was stuck with for the next month, I pushed open the door and walked out into the cold air. As soon as the wind hit me, I shoved my hands into my pockets and started my trek down the quite lane that I had lived on my whole life.
Nothing had ever really changed around here. Same empty streets, same neighbours, same terrible curtains in next doors front windows. I had no doubt in my mind I would be here for the rest of my life. This was where I was going to grow old and grumpy, with wrinkles covering my forehead from the fact I never stopped frowning. I also didn't doubt the fact Id still be alone and accomplishing nothing by that time.
I paused suddenly as a low rumble travelled through the sky, followed by a loud thunder clap. The moment my face had turned curiously to the dark grey sky, large raindrops came crashing down onto my cheeks. I growled to myself and pulled my hood up over my head, lowering my gaze back to the cobbled road and digging my hands deeper into my pockets. I set off at a quicker pace than before, keeping my head bowed to the path ahead of me, despite it would make little difference now. That was my eyeliner ruined for the hundredth time today.
+
I lazily threw the cushions back onto the sofa, in some mild form of order. I wasn't trying to make it look pretty or perfect, just a little better than it did before hand. I had to take some pride in the appearance of the house, and if I didn't it would probably only cause more arguments when everyone got back. Something along the lines of 'You're too lazy for anything. You're so useless' was just a guess at what would be thrown at me, but probably an accurate one.
My gaze travelled over the broken glass scattered across the carpet that I had been avoiding all afternoon. This one I could blame on myself, as I knew for a fact I had been throwing things this morning, but it wasn't like my actions weren't provoked. I sighed distastefully and wandered across the room and into the kitchen, deciding that I really needed to clean it up or accidents would happen.
Finding the dustpan and brush under the kitchen sink, I walked back into the living room and gave the glass one last hard glare. Once I was satisfied it knew my dislike for it, I knelt down and started work on sweeping it up. After getting most of the glass directly infront of me, I swapped knees to move me closer to the rest of the broken fragments a little further away. Being the clumsy person that I am, I slightly lost my balance in the act and held out my hand in reflex, to stop myself from falling flat on my face. I winced as I felt a sharp pain shoot through my middle finger, causing me to drop the objects in my hands.
I cursed under my breath sitting back and examining the cut in my finger. I cringed as I put it into my mouth, the bitter taste of blood not going down well with my taste buds. I stood back up again and picked up the dust pan and brush from the floor, ignoring the shards that had fallen back onto the carpet. I walked into the kitchen and emptied the glass I had managed to pick up into the bin.
"That's enough cleaning, for one day," I sighed to myself as I discarded the plastic objects onto the kitchen work surface and marched out of the room. I would get round to the rest of the mess later. I did, after all, have all the time in the world on my hands.
I headed back to the stairs, my uninjured hand rummaging through all my pockets in search of a plaster. It wouldn't be unlikely for me to find one, as I had a habit of putting anything and everything into my jeans or hoodies as I fell across them.
I paused as my finger ran over a small, smooth object in my back pocket. I pulled it out and found it was a folded piece of paper, the inside revealing a space drowned in unorganised images and words; a flyer. It was the type that are always given out as freebies on the street to unsuspecting passers by, the poor souls left to get rid of the sheets probably hoping that you'll simply smile politely, put the paper in your pocket, and rediscover it at a later date. A plan that, I had just proved, worked.
Pausing as I reached the upstairs hall, I started to scan read the sheet to find it was advertising a local gig, which was enough to catch my attention. I quickly read over the line up and discovered that I actually recognised quite a few of the bands that were playing, from other random shows I had been to. Half of them weren't that bad. My eyes fell further down the page to land on the time and date of the event. I tilted my head as I worked out that it was being held tonight. I smiled lightly and shook my head. What were the chances?
It only took a moment to come to the decision that a gig would be good for me, and the fact that it was so close by meant I didn't have an excuse not to attend. It would just be an average relaxing yet energetic evening for myself. Content with my decision, I returned the flyer to my back pocket and continued my initial search for a plaster to protect my still throbbing finger.
After standing at in the dark hallway and going through about twenty other things in my pockets, I found out that they were one thing I didn't seem to have on me. I wandered down the hall and turned into the bathroom, and then moved across to the mirrored cupboard above the sink. I quickly found a plaster and wrapped it around the cut, which I realised was actually quite deep, and put some extra plasters into my pocket for future reference. I had a habit of being more than a little accident prone.
I sighed lightly as I strolled back out into the hall and returned to my bedroom. I turned on my stereo again, changed the CD, and increased the volume, allowing the upbeat sound of The Bouncing Souls to drain out the more irregular sound of the rain against my windows. I moved across to my bed and laid down in the large duvet, wrapping it over myself. Once I was completely comfortable I closed my eyes and allowed my mind to slowly slip away with the music, killing the hours until the concert.