My voice rasped, a record screeched. Horsed, perhaps a scar was inside my throat from all this screaming you would think. But it was all natural.
“Just get the fuck out of here Marcy.”
A tall male glare struck into my core, slamming the door onto my face. But its not like I cared about that door anyways. Not like I wanted that door to stay opened and had him still stare and listen to the same scratchy song replay over and over again only to have the same end result again.
That door was stupid. That house was stupid. Maybe everything inside it was stupid. It must’ve been a disease. Or a curse. I’m grateful he kicked me out. Or else it would have been to late for me, and I would have been stupid too.
I don’t want to be stupid.
So why do I waste these tears on someone thats stupid? Grumbling under my breath, the harsh texture of my sleeve wipes at my red cheek. I must look like a mess to anyone who sees me. Or stupid.
That thought makes me feel more annoyed. I turn around to the familiar alleyway his backdoor face, picking up my things he threw out. Sniffling away as I recount the words stupid over and over like its my favorite quota. But it doesn’t make me feel better. Not like how the song Elvis Presley when he singed ‘You’re the Devil’ when he hanged his hand around my waist, singing the words like no tomorrow. But his eyes wandered on. I felt no-one was anywhere around us, even if we were in that club. Maybe that was my first stupid mistake.
The fact his eyes wandered onto someone else. He truly was a devil as he talked like an angel. Thanks Elvis Presley. Should’ve took your words to heart.
Maybe that was when the rustling begun. Or did the rustling noise happen a while ago? I looked up to the dumpster that I crouched down next to, curiosity filling me as my eyes pondered about the legs that sticked out of the ledge.
Slowly, arms emerged from the black bags; as a head poked out from the harsh musty tang of oil smell of a dumpster. Only more curiosity filled me, but what stunt me was when the person had three fingers. Black smooth, sleek black gloves; but you wouldn’t know they were sleek from the smudged banana peel on it- moving up to his head. Fixing what supposedly were a wig to hide……a antenna.
“I never knew people lived in dumpster.”
I spoke like if I didn’t just get kicked out by my EX boyfriend now. Stupid one, may I remind you.
“….” The person yelped, as if my presence was a complete delusion to them.
“….I never knew people get clothes from dumpsters.”
He replied snarking , eyeing the clothes that rested in my hands.
I could only laugh. After everything that happened. In that stupid house, with my stupid ex. In this stupid situation. And my stupid clothes.
I’ve been living with my mom for a while. Working at retail. Trying to find apartments good for my credit. My mom tells me I can stay, she says I can stay for as long as I need.
I smile to the thought. Corny, my mother always was. But even the desperation in my mothers eyes grasped desperately onto my aching heart. The worries of all of my troubles releases into the void of the world alongside my sigh.
A chipped voice called behind me, awakening me from my depressive hole. Which I so desperately hated. I mean seriously I’m on ‘stationing randomly around the store’ duty. When a worker is doing that, do you go talk to them? No.
They are being depress at that moment to pass the time quicker, or thinking about when is the next episode to The One Piece is coming out- or if the Kim Kardashians will ever make a comeback. I mean thats top serious shit.
But…yet….I couldn’t stay mad for long. The familiar face and that most obvious fake black wig on the green skinned male stood before me. Staring wide eyed at me with this curious gaze.
Something about him just made me feel so….nice.
“Do you suppose you’d have any weaponry here or any…..shields? Protecting this place? No reason at all, no reason.”
Even the way he spoke was more stranger then the way he looked- and dress apparently. He had a caped ragged at the end for heavens sake! It wasn’t even halloween yet!
If he was trying to hide from the IRS, he was doing a horrible job.
“Uhm….” Was this a joke? I was to stunned. But yet…the world went bright. Was I fainting? No…my chest didn’t feel heavy. If anything, it felt like a weight lifted. And my voice….it was fluttering. And I felt myself giggling.
I laughed. And my eyes could only stare at the guy. That strange, strange guy. Who seemed bewildered by my giggling. Perhaps, even I would be bewildered to. Maybe if there was a mirror- my reflection would stare in wonder.
Wonder about who is that girl. Who is the one giggling?
“Hey wait a minute. You were the strange dumpster clothing human!” His voice ranged in a sympathy. Like if he were in a acapella.
“Right…were they your clothes? You were living in the dumpster…” I jokingly accused him.
The effects this guy has me in were more better then my ex could ever have.
He seemed to have taken me seriously however.
“Why would I live in a dumpster? Its smelly and gross….I AM NORMAL!!! NoormAAALLLL! I live in a house.”
His voice continued to range in the strange talking. The way he ended it, just…talking normally. I couldn’t help but giggle again.
“Of course. Like how its normal for retail stores to not have any weapons or shields.”
He seemed to have take my answer to deep thought. Seeing his gaze stare at his tapping foot as his fingered glove rested on his green chin, his lip pouting. Before a malicious grin moved upon his face.
“Right! Of course! Normal! And I, a NORMAL human adult! Will go do! Normal activitys! In this….RETAILLLL store…..”
And off he went, to do this ‘normal activity’ he spoke of.
Yet, I doubted he had any idea of what a normal activity was.
(More two parts will come on the next day, and the next day to come until new years. Then this story will end. I hope you guys enjoyed this)
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