AN: Okay. So the start is just a bit short. I'm going to make them longer and all, but this is just the start. This is the first story that I'm going to be posting with chapters in it. Please be nice.
In all her 22 years, she had seen people in life live by the bottle. She had seen people take one long swig, a pleasured face as sweet or bitter liquid swished down their throats. Burning and soothing at the same time, warming everything inside, blurring all things that hurt and making a person lose their inhibitions. It never seemed to be the same coming up as it did going down though, such a thorough travesty. She had never had that experience, but it never looked as pretty the morning after as it did while under the influence. She never wanted to be that type of person, she never wanted to live by the bottle and waste her hard earned money on something that would taste between acid and putrid travelling up the valley of her chest and poison her tongue to spill through the porcelain wonder in the early hours of the night and day. She didn't think that her life would ever come to something like this. She merely sipped on a Lemon, lime and bitters or lemonade. She was always sober driver, or stayed at home with her grandmother... Her grandmother, the person who practically raised her, the woman who put so much time and effort on a broken child. Only for her gentleness, selflessness and honesty to be repaid in full at the hospital. How that 22 year old hated that place, she spent too much time here, clinging onto a single fibre of hope only to be let down. Yes. Hospitals were places of failed dreams and lost hope.
Syiera Kaia Summers' first hangover was long overdue according to her few friends she hung out with, one very loose and bubbly Ellie and a very laid back and attractive Jarod caused her dry spell to end. Now, she was severely paying for that deed. It went to show that she more than regretted the action. She had fuzzy parts in her memory and as she slept in her bed, tried in her best effort to remember the events that occurred. The images of dancing, laughing and wait... was that grinding. She pursed her dream-like lips that guy and his damned wandering hands. Fucker! Oh Jarod! Syiera's dream like self cheered in victory as her friend pulled the guy off of her and socked him once in the face. She saw herself plastering her body on Jarod as he held her protectively. Beaming, Syiera was glad to have good friends. She nursed a hangover, hoping that her body could stay in the bed for longer than it had during the night.
A silver striped tail flicked in irritation and an annoyed growl or hiss filled the silence. A paw with silver and black stripes raised to paw at its victim, "Go away Xander!" A voice laden with sleep exhaustion called out. Another growl rumbled from the vexed feline and a look close to a smirk passed his furry muzzle. He began purring as he slinked up to the breathing mound of blankets and sheets, trying a different attempt to rouse the lazy housemate. There was a bucket on the left hand side of the bed and the linen was a tangled mess around the body. The headboard of the queen sized bed was large and at the very top of it had hinges and a small secret cubby hole and on top of it was a glass of water. Syiera hid many things she didn't want anyone to find in there.
Xander the cat purred relentlessly in the ear of his victim, the mound stirred and rolled around turning her head from him, "Xannnddeerr!" The shrill voice was dry and whiny. A smug look shimmered in his eyes, he was enjoying this. He continued his assault, feeling as if his stubbornness outweighed her hangover, purring louder and moving toward an olive face, stepping on wavy chocolate brown hair earning a soft grunt. Flicking green eyes behind closed lids squeezed closed, "Five more minutes" she groaned. The cat was not ready to wait, he didn't wait for anyone, he never had to wait, who was she to make him wait. NO WAITING!
His face neared hers, purring into her ears, his eyes narrowed and his face set in a determined glare, she shook her head using her hair to cover her ears as if she knew what he was up to. He growled a little and then moved closer... Closer... Closer... until
"JESUS CRUST! XANDER!" The voice was a mixture between, shock, anger, nausea and bewilderment. Syiera put a hand to her ear and shuddered, she looked around the room to see a proud looking cat sitting at the end of her bed, green eyes met amused light blue. She wanted to throw something at him, "REALLY?!" She bellowed through gritted teeth and rubbed her cold ear, "Eeew, you got cat snot and spit all over my earrr!" She whined. The cat just pounced off of the end bed post and pranced toward her happily now that she was awake. Syiera grumbled slight profanities and then scratched the top of her head, she was hung over and the damned cat couldn't even give her five more minutes to sleep. She understood that he was used to strict time tables, but this was ridiculous! He was a cat for crying out loud! Why did she have to move at his every beck and call? Seriously? The cat was spoiled.
He nipped at her hand and then looked at the clock, yip, what else did she expect? He was all but exactly efficient with timing. It was 6.30am exactly, in fact the 30 had just flickered over as her eyes grazed the red numbers on the wall, "I can't even get a damned sleep in on my one and only day off, no sympathy" she looked pointedly at the cat who seemed to be ignoring her inner musings, good thing at that, she thought, 'why?' another voice sounded. It was ignored. Well, the voice continued, 'at least you don't need an alarm clock anymore.' Syiera had to admit, she was spending more money than it was worth to keep one of those. She always ended up destroying them in the end.
Sighing she rubbed her sleepy eyes. She was still sitting up from when her ear was assaulted by this cat that demanded she get out of bed to feed him. "You're cruel," the cat just looked up at her and tilted his head. If cats could smile, his eyes were shining in amusement, "Don't look so pleased," she spat as she climbed out of bed, "as soon as gran gets out of hospital you're going back to live with her!" She spat, getting out of bed, she instantly regretted it, the room was spinning slightly and she blinked furiously trying to centre herself on the floor. She pulled a hand up to her head and caressed her temple before taking a deep breath. "You'll be evicted," she looked at him when the room stopped spinning, he pawed at the bed digging his claws into the fabric and it made Syiera cringe, "Here I am talking to a bloody cat!"
'At least you haven't started talking to inanimate objects,' she could hear that voice in her head trying to make the situation better, but really, did sane people talk to animals? They probably didn't understand, and it wasn't like they could respond, "This doesn't make me talking to an animal any better," she mumbled and sat back on her bed puling the blankets over herself. Xander trotted over to her and looked up at her face, almost in an effort to peruse her inner crazy, he meowed, purred and butted his head against her chin, cheek, arms, leg, hand. "Okay okay!" Syiera finally relented.
"This living alone thing," Syiera commented,
'it's driving you crazy!'
"Shut up!" she growled, "I don't need your opinion,"
The cat looked over at the green eyed girl quizzically "Oh no you don't!" she sneered, "You can't question my sanity Alexander," if a cat could glare, and glares could kill, Syiera swore she'd hate to be the receiving end of Xanders. She smirked to herself a little, celebrating at the tiny success, she wondered if it was possible for an animal to dislike their name. Syiera giggled a little and then finally got up in hopes to escape the ire she was getting from her grandmother's cat. Her rigid body somehow managed to rise, the numb feeling she had from when she first stood faded and her body ached from her head, to her toes. Her stomach clenched and growled, her neck and back clicked, she cringed at the many signs of her night. "I'm never drinking again" she cursed
Xander followed the woman to the kitchen, she dragged her feet and moaned, groaned and whined. She really looked like hell. She felt worse though. She turned to look at her bed, she could feel something akin to a gravitational pull, she felt like she needed the soft pillows to caress her face and the blankets and mattress to engulf her body. She could almost hear the music and something calling her to it singing, "Baby come back," the song played in her head.
The damned feline gleefully trotting a head toward the kitchen, three words from a song playing over and over in her head. She took one last look at the end of the hall, the polished Oak wood of her headboard just in view, "I'll be back," she cooed. Immediately the voice in her head cackled darkly, 'Yes, Yes Sy, you're finally lost it. You're actually talking to inanimate objects!' turning toward the kitchen and stomping to the cat bowl and picking it up she glared at no one and nothing in particular, "Shut up," she grumbled. The voice was still laughing at her that she didn't realize that she hadn't heated Xander's breakfast. He growled and looked up at the half awake girl. He stepped on her foot and she was still lost in her inner musings, he pawed it a little and then jumped up on the counter, she hadn't realized she left a bowl, cereal and milk up there. He narrowed his eyes and meowed a warning. Ignored. He flicked a paw and then swayed his hip and knocked both the bowl and milk off the bench.
He quickly sat at the place where his food should be and flicked his tail irately. Syiera glared at him and then he glared back, it was a stare down. The phone rang 3 minutes in, she jumped and broke eye contact. He won. She picked the phone up.
"Deary," it was her grandmother, "Hello GG," Syiera replied, "I just wanted to ring and ask how my Zanny, Xander is doing, and you of course" The young woman glared at the cat and he glared back, "He's stubborn and demanding and annoying and rather stubborn, oh, did I say that yet? Yeah really stubborn," she heard a chuckle, "He'd give you a run for your money then, yes?" Syiera cringed, "He likes his breakfast warm remember," her grandmother knew things, she just knew, Syiera and her were pretty close. The reason she had gone out drinking was in order to release some stress. It didn't seem to sit well with her now that is was the morning after. She sighed as she picked up the cat food and placed it in the microwave, pressing a few buttons and then letting the 25 seconds tick down. Leaning against the bench she looked at the ground, Xander was licking his chops.
"You're getting out soon right?" She said looking at the cat, the microwave beeped, there was silence on the other end. She put the food down and then stopped to look at the mess. Groaning internally she picked up the pieces of glass and then fetched a towel to soak up the milk that the damned cat spilled. She was distracted for a moment, "GG?" She questioned, Syiera didn't like it when she got quiet, "What's wrong?" She swallowed hard, the scratchy silence on the other end unnerved her. "Yeah," the voice was faint, "I'm here, I don't think I'll be getting out for a while." Syiera didn't like that sound, "what do you mean?" Something inside of her swirled, it wasn't the hangover, but she wanted to get sick, she wanted to drink again. "I need to stay here, they haven't given me much longer pet," Syiera felt her throat closing, "I'll be right there." She hung up the phone and then ran out the front door. Dropping everything, she was supposed to be doing homework for her Psych class, she was supposed to be constructing homework for the students she tutored, she even dropped the work meeting at the restaurant she worked in. Syiera didn't really worry about her personal training, but she even dropped that.
She locked the door to her small house unit, leaving a window open so that Xander could get in and out of the small house. She pursed her lips. How could it be that her grandmother was not going to get out of the hospital, last time she had talked to the doctor, which was in all fairness, a week ago, he had told her that everything was fine and that they were running protocol tests in order to see what was wrong, that it would take about a week to get the results, but there was no initial life threatening conditions. She sighed and shook her head. She was there the day her grandmother was admitted, she was the one who called the emergency service. Her grandmother and her were having a good talk and she turned around to look for her coffee when the sound of braking glass and spilling substance alerted her. Syeira's grandmother was on the floor unresponsive and out cold. Her eyes watering and her heart thumping loudly in her ears and chest and feet. How could your heart pump in your feet? She swallowed hard and then rushed to the phone.
A shiver ran down her spine as she drove to the hospital, the mere memory of the event hurt and constricted the organs in her chest. She hated not being able to breath, but panic attacks like these, she was slowly getting used to them. Taking a deep and calming breath she swallowed hard and then pulled up to the hospital, she couldn't think straight, nothing but the want to get to her grandmother was clear in her mind. rushing out of the car and then locking it with the little button on her keys she jogged her way to the front. She slammed into something, someone and found herself sitting on the floor with a "ommf," and a 'Thud'. She sat up and blinked blankly up at the person who was looking down at her with annoyance and grinding teeth. She sighed and then rubbed her head a little, "What the hell," she groaned, "Is your chest made of bricks or something," the grinding of teeth got louder.
She swallowed hard and then pulled herself to her feet and fumbled to get her keys that were at his feet. She hated the idea that it looked like she was bowing down to him. She looked past him and then folded her arms with her keys hanging on her pinkie finger. "Aren't you going to apologize?" A deep and hard voice rumbled, it would have been velvety and smooth had he hidden his annoyance. She frowned slightly and shrugged her shoulders, "Oh, yeah, yeah, Sorry," she waved her hand idly and said as noncommittally as possible, this made him huff in annoyance, the grinding of teeth gnashing at themselves started again. She looked up at him, without really seeing him and then huffed, "Well, as much as I'd like to do this," she waved a hand between the two of them erratically and then looked past his shoulder again, "but people to see, things to do," he stepped in her way and then she looked up at him. "Arrogant little-" Syiera narrowed her eyes "You know what," she said happily interrupting and smiling at him, catching him off guard. "FUCK YOU!" She pushed him aside with as much force as she could. She quickly ran past him and then towards her grandmothers room. She could hear footsteps following her and enraged growls. She laughed a little to herself, turned around poked her tongue at him, flipping him off at the same time. It was extremely childish for someone of her age but something she felt justified with.
She slipped. Her head collided with the floor. Throbbing. Both front and back of her head hurt, her spine. Her remaining injuries from the night before returning and hitting her full force. She looked up at the white ceiling and heard rushing and people and could feel a sickly iron smell. A sticky sensation, she raised her hand to touch and feel for where it was coming from, she found the small puddle and then raised it to her face, Red. Red. All red. Blood... She closed her eyes and her body went limp.