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And I’m alone.
I’m not enough to save myself.
Trash
NEVE
Something awkward underneath me— lumpy, soft, and a little bit wrinkly—pokes at my sore back. Sore… everything for that matter.
Aghumh.The attempt at moving is an utter fail. The whole body is too much of an effort, so I try me feet. A wiggle happens… possibly. My toes are so cooled there’s a bit of delay on their functional capabilities.
There it is… and there’s definitely something lodged between them.
Mushy.Eww.
My body awakens and by the scent of my surroundings, I’m definitely not Heaven.
Guess I’m not dead, even Hell would smell better than this.
Something scurries over my ankle and squeaks when I kick my legs out, catapulting me into a sitting position.
The haze in my eyes freaks me out.
Melting eyeballs,I distinctly remember my corneas feeling like they were being barbequed. The burnt yellow glow coming from above me is the only thing keeping me from going into a major panic. I’m not blind. The more I blink, the more the buildings come into sight and my neurons start firing again.
My eyes, that can now see clearly despite the dryness, spot a few wilted lettuce leaves poking out from under my ass. The lumps are from the plastic bags in an array of neutral shades. There’s a lavender one in the corner. And that squishy thing between my toes... Spoiled mac and cheese.
Gross! Gag! Eww.
“Why am I in a dumpster?” I speak aloud to check if my voice is still working. Realization comes in with a fury.
The fire.The words hit me so hard, my body aches.Styx.
That shithead set me up!
Ugh.
Other than betrayal, giving up, and dying, the last thing I remember are my ankles. Wrapping my fingers around them, I attempt to recall what happened after that, but I must have passed out.
Miracles wouldn’t have dropped me off in a disgusting, rat-infested dumpster. Neither would a cop. So, maybe that asshole grew a conscience and came back.
Still going to kill him.
First I got to get out here though. The second I put pressure on my left arm, it prickles before a jab of pain erupts from my rest to the elbow.
What the hell? And why do my breasts feel like they just went through a mammogram?
Rubbing at them, I realize my chest also hurts. I had nearly hacked up a lung in the shop.
Despite the intense need to puke, I get on my knees and slowly peek out through the disgusting slimy rim of the dumpster.
Do not think about anything,I warn myself.
Of course, that doesn’t work.
Used condoms.
Bacteria.
