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Chumley just nodded with a grunt, as if he understood the assignment.
Good. The bastard had caused yet another job loss.
Ugh.
“You know, it’s my birthday tomorrow. I turn eighteen. It’s meant to be a big, special thing for me. In Australia, that’s the age you can start drinking. These fuckers are all retarded, with the whole twenty-one thing,” I growled as I moved to the fridge. Not that I’d been a good girl and never drank.
My stomach rumbled as I inspected the meager offerings in my fridge. I needed some real food. Not more noodles.
Chumley made some soft growling sounds, but I disregarded them as I snatched out a banana and an apple. They lasted longer if I stored them in there.
I didn’t want to think about my birthday.
Birthdays sucked. I thought about my mother, and how no one cared. How I had no one. No friends or family that would celebrate with me.
Except for my monsters.
“Will you guys celebrate with me?” I asked as I shut the fridge and leaned on it while taking a bite of my apple.
Chumley sat up straight, excited growls rising from him. I just laughed and grinned at him, loving how he seemed so animated by the idea.
“Thanks,” I sighed. “It’s nice not always being alone. Even if you guys are monsters.”
Chumley’s growls dropped off, and he narrowed those glowing red eyes at me.
I just shrugged as I moved to sit at the table with him.
“You know, for a moment there, I actually thought Creeper helped me out today. But that’s not possible. But what I do know, is that I took that guy’s gun away. And I knew how to use it. How’s that even possible?” I asked him as I leaned my elbows on the table, a banana in one hand, and the apple in the other.
Chumley just cocked his head at me, the shadowy wisps rolling off his shoulders.
“Guess I’ll never know,” I sighed as I took another bite out of my apple. Chumley growled softly, and I grinned at him after swallowing.
“Another Netflix night?”
I awoke, groggy after staying up late with Chumley. I groaned as the morning light flooded through my broken blinds, and I yanked the blanket over my head.
I didn’t have work today. Or any day, not until I found a new job.
“Happy birthday, bitch,” I muttered to myself.
I’d hoped by eighteen I’d be somewhere better in life. Maybe have a decent job, a decent apartment, maybe even be finishing my schooling.
Nope, I was unemployed, lived in a dingy one bedroom apartment with faulty water pipes (my water would cease to work some days, and I’d just accept that I’d have to skip showers and survive on bottled water until it sorted itself out) and hadn’t even considered schooling.
A harsh grunt greeted me, and I just groaned.
“Go away, whichever one you are,” I mumbled through my blanket.
Another grunt, and this time my blanket was yanked off of me.
I blinked away the sleep as I spied Jack standing at the side of my bed, staring down at me, my blanket dangling from his clawed hand.
“Fuck off, cunt. You got me fired. Again!” I growled as I rolled to face the wall and curled the pillow over my head.
Another muffled grunt through my pillow.
And then he yanked my pillow away.
