Author's note and stuff!
Ok. I have not messed with this fic for a while. A looooong while. Like... last year. Oops... So, after coming back, I decided to pretty much rewrite the thing. I really didn't like how I wrote it, and thought it a bit clumsy and dumb. So... yeah. Contact me if you want to see the original story. So, without further ado, read on, dear human!
End of author's note.
A young, brown-haired woman named Melissa sat in her warm bed, her head propped up against a group of pillows. Melissa's companion, a corgi that she had named Penny, lay asleep , half of her side laying on her feet in a quite uncomfortable manner. It was around one in the morning, and Melissa couldn't sleep for the life of her. Too many ideas were rushing through her head for her to care about things like sleep. She didn't mind, though. The sounds of the outside world were quite relaxing, while a bit eerie at the same time. Anyways, nothing a little coffee couldn't fix!
It was nearing winter, and, if she listened really closely, she could hear the sounds of various nocturnal animals scurrying around, collecting an array of nuts and other foods. Not very many cars went by, making it even more relaxing. She assumed this is what it would be like if she lived in the woods. Her mind went at 100 miles a minute, continuously skipping from one idea to another. What if she died? Would her family care? What if they didn't? That would suck. Would anyone notice? What would they think? How would she die?
While she used her strange mind to her advantage when writing stories, it was at times like this when she wished it could just slow down and be normal, or, at least, as normal as the human mind could be. She gave up. Grabbing a thick and fluffy purple blanket that had been sprawled on the fairly messy floor beside her, she clutched the sheets beneath her so she could sit up. She could feel Pennie lifting up her head, a bit groggy and grumpy.
"Urm... Sorry Penny." she mumbled, giggling a bit at the unhappy look that her dear pet had shot her before repositioning herself and putting her head back down. Melissa opened the top drawer of the nightstand beside her bed before rummaging around it, looking for the soft, rubber grip of her handy flashlight and the and the cold, metallic handle of her pocket knife that usually lay beside it. That thing has never saved her in the loosest meaning of the term, however, as her mother always said, she'd better be safe than sorry. This cliche-but-true phrase was made even stronger by the fact that it was 1:00 AM. She then pushed her plump body off the mattress grabbing her laptop from her desk, and walking out her front door to the porch. She sat on one of the freezing cold steps, her body enveloped in the warmth of the blanket, and placed the knife and the flashlight next to her and putting the laptop on her lap. She opened it and turned it on before opening a new Word Document. She needed to finish writing a report for the newspaper company she happened to be a journalist for. She had begun it earlier that day, but she procrastinated until that very moment.
By the time her article was finished, (Which was rather boring, dull and requiring a ton of research about the city she lived in and Slipknot music set to the highest volume to keep her awake)it was four in the morning and she could fall asleep on the freezing and splintery wood of the porch if she wanted to. She saved the document, copy-pasted it into an e-mail, and e-mailed it to her editor before gathering her various crap, walking like a zombie back to her room, putting the stuff on her desk to be sorted out tomorrow, and flopping sideways on her bed, where she practically passed out. She woke to the annoying sound of her alarm clock. She didn't want to get up, but she needed to. So why fight it? She forced herself up with weak arms, stopped her alarm clock, and stood up.
"OH SHIT, MY BACK!" She wailed, as a horrible feeling shot down her spine. God damn her and her lousy procrastination! She hobbled to her bathroom, brushed back her short, brown hair, pulled on a black tee-shirt and blue jeans, and slipped on a pair of shoes and socks. Penny followed behind her as she ran out to her old car that once belonged to her father. A bed for Penny lay on the passenger seat, covered in Pennie's long, tan and white fur, which Melissa placed her upon. She then got in the driver's seat and drove to work.
She parked her car in the lot outside the building and cracked the window for Penny. Melissa needed to keep Pennie in her car, as she knew how to escape her house as she worked. She learned that the hard way. She jogged into the building and got right to work.
Author's Note
I cut out a metric ton of filler, and thought this was a good place to end the chapter, so sorry if it was a little bit short. Tell me if you like the re-write!
