"So, I'll be moving out in like…a week," I spoke, pouring myself a cup of coffee from the kettle. "I just wished it was sooner." I took a seat in the leather armrest chair next to my best friend and coworker Eve Laughter.

A week, seven whole days until I could move out of that retched place I called home. A week isn't that long, but to me it felt like a eternity. Visually the apartment I was living in at the moment was beautiful. A old victorian apartment that had undergone a comprehensive refurbishment and restoration of the interior and exterior. Underfloor heating, generous ceiling heights and natural lights accompanied with beautiful views overlooking Hyde Park. But the neighbors were awful, always complaining about this and that, and the walls - I swear - as thin as paper. A architectural design flaw, which obviously decreased the value of the apartment and making it hard to sell.

You could practically hear the water pipes working overload as soon as someone decided to take a quick shower, work a tap or even flushing the toilet. In all honesty it was ridiculous. It was ridiculous that someone would build such a beautiful apartment complex and just completely overlook the fact that human beings need privacy, they need generous amounts of volumes. Not the sound of water pipes, and defiantly not the sound of their next-door neighbor making sweet love to one another at night.

There was this unwritten rule at this apartment complex, where you aren't allowed to take a shower before 6:00 am, or after 9:00 pm. This creating problems for me, since I had to leave for work at 5:30 am. If you had the audacity of not obeying by the rule, all hell would break loose and you'd be kicked out of your own place before you could even say 'Home sweet home'.

"I can't even believe that you've lasted this long," Eve replied, putting her phone down as she let out a deep sigh, and stretching out her arms yawning. "You've lived there for what, a year?" I nodded in reply as I took a large sip from my cup, my whole body aching, craving for caffeine.

Today had been a good day so far, despite not being to able to take a shower in the morning. Other than that everything had run smoothly. My rounds at the retirement home went fine, I got the best one's today and I was quiet thankful for that because I believed I had one maybe two shots too many yesterday when I went out clubbing with my sister. The most eventful thing that happened today, was when Mr. River, a 98 year old man, lost all senses and began calling me his wife. He was a sweet, and charming man, and judging by his old photo's he would show once in a while, he was a complete stag during his thirties. I'd defiantly date him, if he was thirty now.

My phone began to vibrate, and as I pulled it out of my pocket a groan managed to escape from my lips. This obviously peaked Eve's ears and curiosity. I showed her the caller ID.

Ryan.

Ryan was a guy I had been dating for about two months. He offered me of being his girlfriend, and I had yet to give him an answer. And I believe that his reason for calling. "Eve's what are you doing later? I can't handle Ryan right now," I declined his calling, looking over towards Eve who was smirking towards me as she let her chin rest on top of her knuckles.

"Movie night?" was her reply.

"At…Seven-ish?"

• • • •

After a couple of beers, a bottle of red whine and a whole season of Sherlock later, Eve and I ended up walking in the direction of the apartment I was moving into in about a week. This apartment complex was situated in a area that I had not visited before. Hackney. This was an area completely different from the one I was used to, apparently Eve had been here before and ensured me that this area was completely fine. I did not believe her. But I had to be thankful for even getting a apartment on such short notice, and it was thanks to my father. He had offered it to me in kindness after he came on a brief and rather unannounced visit and experienced first hand the hell I was currently living in.

The apartment used to be owned by my grandmother, Signe Karinsdottir, who, unfortunately, passed away a few months ago. My father had dropped of they key a couple of days ago and I was quiet curious in what state Signe had left the apartment in. All I knew was that all her belongings and such were still there. My father had told me that I could keep or throw away whatever I saw fit, she did not have anything of sentimental value that he himself wanted to keep. His words sounded a bit to harsh for my taste, but I knew that the relationship between them had not ended on good terms. I can recall several times when he would call her by names I wish not to repeat, but the one thing that made an impact on my grandmother and visibly hurt her was when he said that she had finally lost in. She had finally lost all grip of reality… and the day after she passed away.

She was found in the streets a cold December night frozen to death.

As we entered the apartment, I believe, both Eve and I were caught of guard by how small it was, and the awful state it was in. It was a attic they had remodeled into a small apartment, one side of the roof was pitched forcing both me and Eve to stoop when we walked further in. I tried the light switch but there was no electricity, this I should have foreseen since the electricity bill probably hadn't been paid since father took over the apartment. "See if you can find some candles," I spoke to Eve pointing to some drawers. I dug my phone out from my pocket and used it as my source of light as I walked further into the apartment.

To be honest, the state of the apartment was rubbish. It was terrible, and I immediately began to question why father still owned it. Was it because he was feeling guilt of how he had treated his own mother the last years of her life? I cursed quietly to myself as I managed to step onto something sticky. I sighed loudly and began to inspect the rest of the apartment.

There was a small kitchenette right in the hallway, a little bathroom with a shower, and a small sink right in front of the toilet. A sigh parted from my lips, my knees were certainly going to hit the sink every time I was going to use the loo. There weren't that much space left, there was only room for a rather small single bed, a squared kitchen table accompanied with two chairs, a bookcase that was built in to the wall and a dresser. All my things could never possibly fit in here.

The floor boards creaked and complained as I carefully walked to the only window in the entire apartment. Shaped like a crescent moon it overlooked the courtyard of vines and yellow grass. "Found the candles," Eve started to light up three of them and placed them carefully in three brass holders. There was a lot be done if I was going to be able to live here. There was dirty dishes in the sink, on the kitchen table, the floors were all covered with a ridiculous sum of books, torn out pages filled with scribbles and drawings. Above the bed, on the white wall my grandmother had painted a map of a country with cities I had never seen, nor heard of before.

Westeros.

Winterfell.

Castle Black.

Dragonstone.

Highgarden.

"I'm sorry to say this W," Eve picked up a piece of parchment from the floor handing it to me. "Your Nan was definitely a sausage or two short of the full English breakfast."