Writing Prompt – Day 70

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Set your story on New Year’s Day.

My example :

The clock reads twelve, but it’s not midnight. It’s January first and I’m bringing in the new year with a raging headache. I groan, reaching for my glasses on the nightstand.

Why did I have to drink so much last night? Everyone party’s it up, celebrating a new year-new them, but we are so foolish. Who wants to have a fresh start with a damn hangover?

Apparently I do.

My phone has fifteen missed calls and twenty text messages. I’ll get to that later. I don’t want the day to start off any worse than it already has.

Rolling out of bed, I make my way to the kitchen. I fill up a glass of water and throw back two Excedrin. My stomach lurches but there’s nothing more to empty. I did enough of that throughout the night.

The stale bread on my counter looks less than appetizing but I know I need to eat something. I’ll leave that for my last resort. It feels like I’m being weighed down by a ton of bricks as I go to check the pantry – no such luck.

Damn, maybe the fridge?

An expired milk carton sits half full and the only other thing I see is a stick of butter and some condiments.

Stale bread it is.

The bread crumbles under my fingers and I curse under my breath. Things could be worse, I guess. I could be dealing with my crazy ex who I had seen at the bar last night. No doubt she’s the one who blew up my phone.

I’d rather eat a whole loaf of this shit than to have to see her again.

God, she is so batshit crazy that I swear I can still hear her voice. She’s like a damn leech that you can’t get rid of.

Crash.

What the hell was that?

I wander around the house, trying to find the source, and then I stop dead in my tracks. A fucking rock is laying on the hardwood floor in my bedroom. I glance up at the window and a cold wind blasts the front of my hair back.

Watching my step, I try to get a better angle to see out of what’s left of my window. There’s no-one there. My phone dings with a message and I pull it out of my pocket.

Psycho ex appears on the screen. What the fuck man?

No doubt she’s outside my house right now. It’s confirmed, I wasn’t just imaging her voice, I actually heard it. If she didn’t hold my biggest secret, I would call the police and not think twice. But she knows what I’ve done. And if anyone finds out, that would be it for me.

I pull up the text message.

Outside now it reads.

I ponder my options, but there’s really no choice for me. My head is still pounding, but I throw on yesterday’s jeans, careful not to step on the glass. I head over to the front door, tossing on my shoes before stepping out into the cold, winter air. This is going to be a long ass day. No, make that a long ass year.

She is not going to let me go.

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How’d you do pals?!

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