The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain (jenni_the_odd) wrote,
The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain
jenni_the_odd

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I was at some sort of water-themed amusement park filled with every person I've ever attended school with since leaving Second Baptist (I went to a private Christian school that warped my widdle brain through third grade). Nicole was constantly doing cannonballs, which annoyed me because I got splashed, and I was the only person not in a bathing suit, I was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. I was also irritated and near hysterics because I didn't want to be there - Kevin was in the hospital because he'd been in a car accident. His hip and leg had been broken. Apparently Bailey (his dog) was also in the car at the time, and was injured as well. So I'm going crazy because I don't have a way to get out of the damned waterpark, and no one cares. We were all in this big pool (and by big, I mean larger than a football field) that had a waterfall and all sorts of ledges. There were kids everywhere. It looked like Lord of the Flies meets MTV's Spring Break. Madness. I remember Nicole trying to push me off the ledge we were on, insisting that I ought to go 'have fun', and Emily pointing at some cute guys who were across the main body of water from us and who were waving. I just kept talking about how I needed to find Kevin.
Finally it was over, and we all piled into this big bus to go back to wherever. Dan was sitting behind me, and he tapped me and said: "Hey! Did you hear? Kevin's in the hospital!"
By this point I just sort of stared at him and said: "Yes, Dan, I know."
Dan then resumed discussing his band's latest gig, and I resumed worrying.
Then I woke up.
*blink*
mkay.

It's move-in day at the apartment complex (I am one of the freaks who moved in early). All around me are people creeping into their apartments. I will have neighbors again (the others moved out about a week ago).
HOWEVER.
There is a rather old-looking yellow men's bicycle leaning against the wall of the apartment across from me. It has been there since the day I moved in. Since there has been no one in that apartment for at least two weeks, I assume it was not theirs.
Whose is it? This perplexes me to no end, and for no good reason. It's been there for a month, unmoving. There is also a pair of men's shoes in the dirt area beneath the stairs right next to it. They have also not moved.
I am tempted to take the bike. Or name it Steve and decorate it according to the seasons. Or at the very least, attempt to figure out whose it is... This has been eating away at my soul for a while now. I MUST KNOW.
Perhaps the person is simply like me and will go days without leaving their apartment. This is possible. Hmmm.
I also ought to tidy up in here. The most difficult part about tidying up in this apartment is that there's no place to put anything. I really ought to locate a dresser or bookslepf of some sort. Everything winds up on either the counter or the floor because there's literally no other place for it to be. Except the bed, but then it goes to the counter or the floor when I want to occupy the bed. Hrm.
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