Reality's Inconvenience.

A Chapter by Natasha

Know what's in the bag yet?

Hugging it close to me, I ran to my apartment. Yes, I am running now. I suspect a grave burden has been given to me. This is not normal. After passing so many faces, they all blurred into one mass of confusion. All staring at me, judging me. I swerved into an alley, a short ways away from my apartment, pressing myself against the cold, brick behind me. Sliding down the wall I let reality hit me. I was approached by a complete stranger. I was given a bag. I was given advice. Or threatened. Either way, some weird s**t is going on here and for some odd f*****g reason I was involved. Or it revolves around me. Either way! Either way...Goddammit, why I am so scared?

Ugh, this is s**t. Pure s**t. Stupid s**t. S**t. S**t. S**T.

Okay, so it all happened. I have the bag. I still don’t know what’s in it…About time I found out.

I, Adelaide Shaw, hereby bequeath my will and testament to all those who are willing to listen or hear or read from my mind.

I give all of my worldly possessions to whoever the f**k wants them.

The only regret I’ve managed to obtain in life is dying by a bag.

No love and no kisses for anyone who found this,

Adelaide Shaw

Alright, so now that my death letter has been thought out time to open the bag! I fumbled with the drawstrings that kept it closed tight finally managing to undo the damned knots. I stretched out the opening of the bag a bit too fast since I nearly ripped it in the progress but looking in the bag I see that there’s- F**k s**t cocksucking monkeys in death’s alley!

“Hello? Who the f**k is calling me at this hour?” My cellphone rang, scaring me out of my knickers. The reply was not…replying…back…to…me…? Answer damn you!

“Geez, wait, I’m eating.” S**t, did I say that out loud?

“Okay, where the f**k are you? I’ve been waiting all damn day.” I will admit, I’m still not too sure who this person is. I know it’s a guy. I’m guessing he knows me…or stalks me…well if he stalks me then he should know where I am. Right, Mr. Stalker?

“Once again, I’m your f*****g guardian paid not enough by your dumbass parents to make sure you don’t turn into some sort of w***e.” S**t, did I think that out loud?

“Yes! You did now answer me!” I rolled my eyes, though he could not see, at the malice in his voice. No wonder I forgot who he was. It’s something I try to do often…

“I’m in an alley, hiding from the dangers that society brings. Beware of the cabbage is all I’ll say.” Examining my nails and holding the phone away from my ear I waited as he shouted profanities, unpleasant phrases, non-complete sentences and random curse/prayers for my death or sanity. Whatever was most convenient, he ended.

My bodyguard isn’t all that bad really, I have an ounce of a crush on him anyways. His boisterousness contradicts his looks, he’s pretty damn good looking. I drool every time I see him, more like gawk in my lazy way [staring at him without moving an inch] and I love to make him mad since he’s just even sexier. I want to ravish him. Unfortunately he hates my guts and prefer my untimely death rather than even consider going to bed with me. I just want him for his body so it’s all good.

“Are you even listening to me?” His calm voice snapped me to attention. I could hear a rasp in his voice, probably from all the screaming.

“I’m sorry…bodyguard, I ju-”

“Brady, my name is Brady.” I sucked in my teeth. Interruption was not my game. Even if I forgot his name.

“Right. Sorry. I’ll be there soon. Bye.” I shut my phone, stuffing it away before he finished speaking. Most would say that was rude but I don’t care. Thought you’d notice that by now.

Who the hell am I talking to?

You, who are you?

No one.

Alright.

Whatever.

I returned my attention to the open bag, looking around to see if anyone would come along an interrupt me. Checked on my cell phone seeing that it was off, I turned it off after hanging up either way, and slid closer into the alleyway so that the shadows covered me.

secure in my little piece of the world and ensuring that no one could possibly bother me I reached into the bag and felt around feeling a round, bumpy object. Attempts at grabbing it with one hand were failing so I reached in with my other hand, ready to pull it out. Man, its-

BAH!

I jumped ten feet in the air, hitting some sort of metal protruding from the wall. I landed even harder onto the ground. Right now, everything is tingling. I can’t move. F**k…all I want is to know what’s in the bag.

“Ugh. Why does my head hurt so much?” I groaned and moaned, tossing fitfully on what felt like my bed. I opened my eyes to see that it is in fact my bed considering that I am in my room. I looked around, confused, knowing full well that I had been in no state to walk home then wondering what the hell scared me out of my skin giving me this raging ache pounding in my skull. I couldn’t stop myself, I kept tossing and clutching and moaning, finally curling into a ball facing my door where Brady, the bodyguard stood with something in his hand.

He looked up and saw that I was awake, chuckling at something. Maybe me. He kept looking at that thing in his hands. I rolled over to my nightstand and groped for my glasses. After finding them I put them on, looking closely, the pain still knocking on my skull, still not sure what it was.

“What the f**k is in your hand?” I shouted, retracting into a ball again the noise to harsh for my ears. He chuckled at my pain, the b*****d ad held it out to me.

“THIS! YOU MEAN THIS!” He was yelling, so loud. Kill me now.

“Yes, please, stop yelling it hurts. It really hurts.” He sighed and sat on the edge of my bed, rubbing my head. I flinched at first, thinking he was going to hit me but he just kept on running my head and placed the thing in front of my face.

Another reason why I like him, he could never hurt someone who’s already hurt. He’s too nice on the inside. But still, I just want to f**k him. No lie.

“Stop being such a b***h, you’re actually pretty decent. When you’re not uninjured at least.” I mocked him, tired of his insulting compliments. I like being a b***h. It’s fun.

“Fine. What is that.” I pointed to the thing in my face and he slapped my head. I let out a long string of expletives pushing my hands against my head to keep it from exploding. His departure was marked by a slam of my door and one last shout.

“By the way, happy birthday.” I looked at my calendar, noticed a red bag thrown beneath it on my desk, piecing the puzzle that this is, realizing the item on my bed was in the bag. I took off my glasses, holding the article.

It was ornate, yes I know what that means, and pretty. There were pastel colors with paling gold and silver painted along the top, oh, it has a top, a clue to what it is. It looked as if belonged to a royal, or maybe a noble from Europe, it belongs in a castle its so pretty.

There were little carousel horses on the side, maybe belonging to a little girl or boy. A child of some sort. It had this magicky feel to it, like it was the thing of imagination. I liked holding it in my palms, looking at the colors, the way the light shined off of it even if it was paling. A diamond in the rough. I flipped it over, noticing the tiny pearls that lined the bottom and some initials underneath it. I couldn’t make out the inscription. There were too many swirls to it, over-calligraphed (I think that’s a word, no). It was too fancy, made it unreadable.

I’ll ask Brady later.

I jumped off my bed.

That thing just moved, I swear it did.

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