|Everyone has a dark side|
Fix You _ 6((Garfield))Fix You _ 6 by Ash280
I didn’t wake up until 11, and I was perfectly fine with that. Until I realized that I had house guests! Rob and Cy could handle themselves, and they often didn’t wake up until late in the day, but I had Rachel to be worried about.
I climbed out of bed and walked out of my room. Something smelled really good. I made my way to the kitchen and sure enough there was a delicious arrangement for food on my table. I looked over to the stove top and sure enough Rachel stood there putting the finishing touches of a dish of tofu eggs.
She turned and looked startled that I was in the kitchen. “Sorry.” She mumbled bringing the dish t the table, already filled with plates of waffles, fresh fruit, tofu bacon, and a pitcher of orange juice. “I figured I would make you and your friends breakfast.” I gave her a weird look. I wasn’t expecting breakfast. She looked down and mumbled “As a thank you
Fix You _ 5((Rachel))Fix You _ 5 by Ash280
I don’t know why I came back here. Because I have nowhere else to go I suppose.
I could have gone to a hotel. No, I want to drop off the grid; I don’t want anyone to find me. And judging from the vibe I get off this guy, this isn’t a professional rental. I’ll just pay him what I need to pay him and he won’t bother me. Okay maybe he was a little annoying and bothersome, but He’d mind his own business.
I sat by the lake again trying to gain the courage to go ask him for the room. After lighting up a cigarette he came out and joined me.
I paid very little attention and when he gave me such a large price I didn’t even care. That was probably one sixth of all my money and my mother’s money combined. I dropped it into his lap and he counted it out.
“Welcome.” He sounded a bit surprised, as if he thought I wouldn’t actually have been able to pay h
Fix You _ 4((Rachel))Fix You _ 4 by Ash280
I cut the engine to the bike a little ways up the street from my house. Oh god. Why did I come back?
I looked down and saw my mother’s tattered makeup bag in the mesh of the duffle bag.
I walked over to my window. I hadn’t been reglassed, but my father had nailed boards of wood to it. It looked obnoxious, like something you’d see in an old Loony-Tunes film. I walked around to our back door, it connected to the far corner of the kitchen, and no one ever used it. I wandered in and crept through the house silently. Nothing illuminated the dingy house. I knew this house better than the back of my hand; I stepped lightly on the floor boards I knew would creek, and avoided random clutter that hadn’t moved from the floor since I was 5.
I wondered if anyone was home. My dad obviously didn’t call the police or anything like that. He wouldn’t turn himself in for killi