Slipping On The Ice

Her: I stirred to life, the darkness surrounding me like a blanket to a child. Bleary with fatigue, I fumble to stir my laptop and groan at the time. 1 in the morning?? Really????!!! I mentally curse my body, and try to curl back into a ball to embrace the unconscious world again, to no avail. Whispering several obscene words, I roll over and drag the computer near me. My eyes took a while to adjust, but once I was able to stare at the screen without squinting, I immediately logged onto Facebook, hoping that Don would be on, and hold true to his promise.

Her: However, disappointment hit me like a freight train when I seen that Don's icon was offline. Maybe he'll come on later? I secretly hoped so, but a part of me warned my mind that the possibility was very slim. Do you really think he'd care to talk to you? He has more important things to do than chat with some girl. Well, to chat with you. I felt a bit melancholy, and logged onto League of Angels to pass time and to get my mind off Don, who seemed to be consuming my time, like how I consume chocolate. The dark became brighter with each passing moment, and soon it was 6 am, presenting itself with not a single message from sexy-face Don.

Her: The feeling of being forgotten spread through me, and I found myself looking through our conversation once again. I felt a bit like a lost child, who was abandoned in the candy aisle and no parents in sight. However, I refused to let myself cry, reasons being that it would be of a stupid cause and that I didn't want my family to laugh at me. So, I sucked it up, and messaged offline Don, telling him that I'd be going to a carnival that my family was hosting, and asking him to spam my message box.

Her: I could only hope that Don would care enough to look at my message, and be considerate to the point of at least messaging me something, before I logged off my laptop and jumped out of bed to get ready for the day.

The End

0 comments about this exercise Feed