Alright Boys and Girls, the next two Story Times are gonna be pretty special for me. I will be sharing with you, a 2-part story that I have written myself. This story is to be part of a collection of short stories I am currently working on.
And as always, enjoy…
Moving Day
Written by: Holly Von Doom
The door to my new apartment rattles and swings into the wall with a loud crash, causing me to cringe, and nearly toppling the precariously stacked boxes in my arms. I stumble awkwardly into the the apartment, tripping over the rug and sending the top box flying across the room.
“Shit..” I curse loudly as I set the other boxes haphazardly on the floor, to go assess the damage. I flip the box right side up and peek inside, letting out a sigh of relief as I see it’s just my books. I sit back on my heels, kneeling in the middle of the empty room, poking through the box of old, well used books before me.
Looking up from the contents of the box, my eyes wander the plain white walls and the scuffed wooden floors of the tiny apartment, to settle on the rather small group of boxes, containing all I own within their dull blank exteriors.
Standing up from my spot on the floor, I turn to head towards the door, giving a startled yelp as I notice the man, not much older than myself, observing me from the doorway.
“Er.. Is there something I can do for you..?” I ask him, in a rather sharp tone, my eyebrow arching as I watch him closely, cautiously.
“Sorry for staring. I live on the next floor up, and heard all the commotion so I thought I’d come check it out. You looked like you were pretty deep in thought over there, and didn’t want to startle you.” He says with a sheepish grin, leaning against the doorframe in a faux casual manner.
“So much for that plan..” I mutter, more to myself than to him. His cocky attempts at charm set my teeth on edge, my eyes flicking over to my trusty razor, sitting on the counter, for a split second, before looking back at him. The urge to kill him nags at the back of my mind but I immediately suppress it, thinking to myself, ‘you’ve just moved here, you’re NOT killing anyone in here.’
That nagging part of my brain pouts and stomps back into its little corner in the back of my subconscious, allowing my jaw to unclench, and I force a polite smile.
“Sorry about all of the noise, I’m a bit clumsy sometimes, but I assure you everything is fine. I just dropped a box. I apologize if I disturbed you” I say to him in the most saccharine tone I can muster.
“I’m impressed you got all of this up here on your own. And there was no disturbance involved, just curiosity. I’m always happy to come help a pretty girl.” He gives me a crooked grin as he says it, and I suppress the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes.
“Well, er.. Would you like to come in or are you going to stand in the doorway all afternoon?” My tone is playful, even though on the inside I want him to go away.
His smile noticeably widens as he steps through the doorway, and looks around him and scratches his head, looking mildly confused.
“Uh.. Don’t you have any furniture?” He looks at me as he asks the question.
“Oh.. Yeah.. I have to go buy some tomorrow I guess. I sort of moved in a hurry, and my furniture won’t exactly fit in my car, you know?” I force another polite smile, and shift uncomfortably as he steps towards the counter, his eyes on my razor.
“Woah, cool. You must collect antiques or something. This looks really old.” He says as he approaches what is basically my safety net.
“Something like that.. Just don’t touch, it’s sharp..” I glare at the back of his head, my hands clenched into fists, my nails digging sharply into my palms.
“Yeah, I guess it does look pretty dangerous. Still, pretty awesome though. So.. Uh.. Furniture shopping tomorrow huh? Would you, maybe, want company? I can do all the heavy lifting. Then we could go for coffee or something.” He looks back at me with a hopeful smile, and that nagging in the back of my head perks back up suddenly.
“Yeah, sure. That sounds nice. Meet me downstairs at noon tomorrow, okay?” I ask in a polite tone, hoping he gets the hint to leave.
“Of course! I’ll see you tomorrow then!” He’s grinning and practically skips out of the apartment, closing the door behind him, and I let out the breath I’ve been holding for what feels like ages.
I walk over to the counter and lovingly pick up my razor and slide it back into its usual place in my boot, feeling much more at ease with it in reach.
I guess tomorrow’s date night. Tomorrow it’s time to play.
(To be Continued)
