immortaldreaming
"Wow, this is kinda creepy." I said, as I looked at the photos. A whole album of them, every single one of them including me. Here was one having lunch with my friends... Here was one of me getting into my car... Here was one of me looking out of my window, through the lacy curtains. "Where did you find all of these?"
"In a darkroom, hidden in a basement of this man's house." The police officer said, showing me a picture of a tall, older man, his hair and beard a grizzly white, no one I recognised.
I always loved jelly. Something about the squishy texture as you eat it always soothed me. The way it felt like slime as you let it melt a bit in your mouth before swallowing. And how it still remained slightly solid as it disappeared down your throat.
Yes, I always liked jelly. Something which I suppose helped me a lot in my chosen career path.
Ouch! He had to drop me, didn't he? Serves me right, I guess, for going on a mission with a rookie. But, honestly? Dropping me from the plane when he was supposed to be hauling me up? Jeez, rookie is right.
I supposed I should explain about why I was just dropped out of a plain flying over the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Well, it would be too long a story to tell, really, and too secret a one at that.
Ugh. Reports. Taking up all of my time. Yet again. As if I didn't have enough to do in the office without filing reports all day. But no, now the time I have to spend with the employees is limited because I have to spend most of it filing all of these stupid reports.
What a day! Honestly. My boss couldn't care less if I didn't hand any reports in, but the manager? Oh no, reports reports reports. That's all he ever has on his mind, and it's limiting my actual job!
Ugh. Family. Seriously? They never have anything interesting or, you know, new, to bring up, but we always have to talk to them like they're the most amazing people ever, and as if they have the most wonderful lives. Just because they're family.
Well I hate relatives.
Or, more importantly, I hate family gatherings.
I can't help it. My cousins always rub in my face about their amazing husbands, and my sisters always beg me afterwards to tell me everything I can remember about them, not that there's anything new to tell them.
The basement door creaked shut behind me as I continued to walk down the stairs. I felt along the wall as I walked down, for the switch. I found it, and switched it on, the bare bulb hanging from the middle of the ceiling throwing all the tumble of junk that's appreciated throughout the years in harsh lighting.
Sighing, I began rumbling. My old journal had to be in her somewhere, I'm sure. It just had to be, I'm sure I threw it down here last week.
writing since 2011 · 7 entries · 6 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Marlee showed up.
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reportsstairsbasementfamilylightwalkeddoorshutbehindcontinuedswitchhangingmiddlesureughamazing