Here's a lullaby to close your eyes,
it was always you that I despised.
I don't feel enough for you to cry -oh my-.
Heather made a "psh" noise at the radio.
"what a depressing song" she groaned and swiftly changed the channel. A car dealer commercial blared and Heather sighed, was nothing good going to come on?
Heather was a 20 year old girl with short blond hair, freckles and a fondness for skirts. Three years ago something terrible had happened to her that still haunted her in her sleep and made her paranoid about the simplest things. Heather never wanted a dog, for fear its head would split in half and it would start rotting all over the place. She never wanted to be alone either, something about big empty spaces and rust... lost of rust, scared the daylights out of her. Speaking of daylights, heather liked the dark, it was comforting, she knew nothing could get her. But what bugged her the most, out of all her little troubles, was Radio static, it sent shivers down her spine. She would tell these things to people and they'd ask why, all she'd say was "it just does." because no one in the wide world would believe the truth.
Heather was on her way to check out a new apartment. She had just completed the gruesome job of moving out of her old one she shared with her dad (another story she didn't like to talk about). And now that she was a "big girl" now going to live far off on her own in the big world she might as well have her own place, right? Well, technically it wasn't her own, she was sharing it with some James something-or-other.
Heather pulled up into the parking lot of a big seven story building. It was a dull grayish brown with Iron grates over each window and blinds behind most of the windows.
"blah" was the only thing Heather could think for the place, it couldn't get more boring.
After Heather had found the apartment and finally got all her boxes and suitcases in she looked around. The kitchen cabinets were white, the counter white, the carpet brown and the walls yellowish. There was obviously another inhabitant, who by the way didn't bother to clean up even though he knew she was coming. there were magazines all over the table and dirty dishes in the sink.
"Gross" Heather muttered and put the last box down.
"HELLO!" She called into the room.
"JAMES... uh what was it.... Sundervill?!"
"Here!" a tall young man replied and appeared out of what appeared to be a bedroom. He had dirty blond hair and looked slightly unshaven but was relatively attractive.
"Hi, um... I'm Heather Mason, your new room mate?" Heather stuttered, she was usually very charismatic but something was different about this guy, he had a certain weathered look that to her said 'i understand'.
"Oh yeah, sorry I didn't clean up..." he said and rubbed the back of his neck "uh, your rooms right here" he pointed to the room across from his.
"thanks" Heather said, smiling slightly.
"No problem. you want some help with those?" James asked indicating the boxes.
"Oh no, I got them" She smiled, she didn't like being treated like... well like a girl.
Heather grabbed a few and carried them into the room, James opened the door for her. That was against her will.
The room was decent, a small bed, an empty desk and a bedside table. Heather set to work; she placed her alarm clock, a lamp and a picture of her late father on the bedside table. She spent a moment looking at the picture sadly then shook it off and returned to her task. Bringing in box after box and continuously refusing James's help she eventually got the room set the way she wanted it.
After settling into her new home Heather decided to get aquatinted with her roommate. She stepped out into the living room. James was there, watching TV. Heather walked over and started to browse the refrigerator, not knowing how to start the conversation.