Uncharted

I woke up due to the early afternoon sunlight pouring through the glass doors of my balcony. I groaned and buried my head deeper into the cushions on my small couch. My neck was so sore, no doubt from sleeping at an obscure angle. I finally decided to sit up. I stared straight ahead of me at an empty wall. Not a single though when through my sleepy head for at least an hour. I simply sat in silence and stared at a wall.

Idly, I played with my mess of crimson colored hair. The first thought I had that day wasn’t a usual thought of a girl who had just woken up. Normally, I would have thought something along the lines of: Holy shit! I need get caffeine in my system before I die. Not that morning. That morning my first thought was to dye my hair back to its natural shit brown color.

I thought maybe that’s why Des was ashamed of having sex with me, because I had hair that was a deep red. Then I realized there were probably a lot of things about me that men didn’t like. That’s probably why Dylan had be fucking the girl who lived across the hall from him for the past year. As soon as that thought popped into my head it was replaced with another thought. That thought consisted of me not even giving a shit anymore. I didn’t need a man in my life to be happy. I wasn’t going to let men dictate the way I presented myself.

I hurled my body off the couch and stumbled toward the kitchen. I started at my empty coffee pot. The thought of exerting the energy to make coffee was enough to make me want to collapse back on the couch and sleep until Cooper had to take me to the airport. Instead, I put a bagel in the toaster.

Bagels always reminded me of my father being as he ate them every morning. I was completely alone an yet I let out an “Ugh.” Suddenly, I was hyper aware that in a few hours I would be in the very presence of him. I began to forage through the contents of my refrigerator, finally I pulled out two bottles. One of the bottles was Coca-Cola and the other was a bottle of rum. I froze when I looked at the clock and saw that it was only nine in the morning.

“It’s way too early for this.” I said to myself. Then with a shrug, I remembered I didn’t give a shit about anything anymore. I filled my favorite mug half with rum and half with Coke. Before my bagel even popped out of the toaster I was making myself another drink.

I didn’t take long for me to get completely trashed. I was drunk off my ass singing loudly while I was lounging on my couch. I had apparently amused myself for hours because as soon as there was a knock on my door I looked at the clock only to find out that it was noon.

I stumbled to the door, my bottle of rum still in hand. I was expecting Cooper but instead got an annoyed looking Desmond. “Cooper got called to the hospital. So I’m taking you to the airport.”

“I’ll take a fucking cab.” I slurred, trying my hardest to sound mean.

“Are you drunk?”

“No.” I lied, not even trying to conceal the bottle of rum in my hand.

“You’re plastered.” He sounded extremely unamused.

“I’m not even drunk.” I argued. “You’re the drunk, Desmond.” I said stumbling forward and poking him in the chest.

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered, pushing his way inside. “Where’s your luggage?”

“I’m taking a cab!” I shouted at him.

“You’re going to pay a lot of fucking money for just because you don’t want to be around me?”

“Yes.” I confirmed. “In fact, I would rather chew my own arm off then get a lift from the likes you.”

Even though I was drunk I could tell that he was offended by that. I didn’t care. I really didn’t give a fuck about anything that day. “C’mon. Get your shit together and let’s go before you miss your flight.” He mumbled and walked off to search for my bags.

&&

The whole drive to the airport, not a single word was said. Well, other than when I was drunkenly singing to whatever song was on the radio before Des turned it off. I kept glaring at the side of his prefect face. I was so mad at him.

“I just want to punch you in the face.” I said through my teeth, sounding angrier than I ever had. My eyes were still locked on his face. He didn’t say anything; he kept looking straight ahead at the road.

The next thing I remember was Des hugging me before I got on the plane. “Have a good holiday, Ollie. Be safe.” He said quietly, leaning down to talk into my ear. He had me wrapped tightly in his strong tattooed arms, drowning me with his intoxicating scent. Which was bad considering I was already intoxicated. Extremely intoxicated.

“Don’t touch me.” I growled, pushing him away even though I wanted to bury my face into his chest and smell him until I passed out.

“Just fucking call Cooper when you land so he knows you’re not dead.” Des snapped. “Because for some ungodly reason he cares about you.”

“You know what,” I slurred “No one even likes you. You’re miserable and mean and…really fucking mean.” I said before I stumbled onto the plane, holding onto a man walking in front of me so I wouldn’t lose my balance. Needless to say, the man wasn’t very pleased with me. I didn't care as long as whatever Des was yelling after me was getting muffled by distance.

I’m almost positive that I passed out as soon as I took my seat. I only woke up because a flight attendant was shouting in my ear and shaking me, telling me to get off the plane. Literally as soon as I stepped into the airport the sunlight was so blinding that I wanted to vomit. To say I had a raging hang over would be an understatement.

I dug through my purse, pulling my sunglasses out and sticking them onto my face. I slowly made my way toward the carousal of suitcases. The only thing I wanted to know was why the fuck it was so loud in airports. My eyes instantly landed on my sister, who had already plucked my suitcase off the carousal. Maddie looked the same as she did when she left me at the airport for my flight to Ireland. Only she was visibly pregnant at my homecoming.

I didn’t even properly greet my big sister. I held my hand out, touching her belly. “Baby.”

“Nice to see you too.” Maddie laughed and pulled me into a tight hug.

“Sister.” I said and put my hand on her face once she released me.

"You smell like a bottle of rum. Are you hung over?” she asked, squinting her blue eyes to get a better look at me.

“You have no idea.” I mumbled, as we started walking toward the exit.

And that’s how the week from hell started. Little did I know that things were going to get worse, a lot worse.