Dear Future Me
Well, now it’s not this morning. And now that I had to chance to break some shit, I’m better.
Yea, I broke some shit. So what? It wasn’t mine. And, it was just some old pieces of wood. Turns out this old fart has some wood out back and like a proper ax. I hacked at some of that wood until I felt better.
So, future me, assuming that this whole amnesia thing is that actual reason I’m writing this and NOT TO SATISFY THAT FUCKIN THERAPIST here’s what happened. It’s been a few days now since I came here. And I was exploring the ol’ place. I finally caved in. There’s not much for me to do here other than flip through my phone and wait for Julie to text back and to stare at the cobwebs on the ceiling. I hung out with Charlotte a few times, but she wasn’t interested in doing anything. Charlotte’s the spider that hangs out by my bed, in the web between my bed and the window. Nice spider, pretty cute n all that.
Also, Julie, you bitch! I texted you first and everything, why don’t you respond! It’s been, like, a day already!
So, I started exploring. I started with the first floor, cause this place doesn’t have a basement that I can find. There’s the kitchen, with its tiny-ass table and the food splattered everywhere. You know, despite this house being built 14 centuries prior, the kitchen isn’t that old looking. You know, its got like that classic black and white motif that reminds me all too much of Julie’s kitchen.
Anyways, there’s also the bathroom and the old farts room. I didn’t even try to go in there. He takes naps at like, the weirdest times. I feel like he wakes up and eats, then takes a nap, then wakes up again to eat. Probably not true? I have heard and seen him at the oddest hours of the night and of the day. And he only wears the same three robes and that ugly ass nightgown. I don’t understand.
So, future me, as you know I’ve been climbing up to the fourth floor every freakin day just to go to my attic bedroom. So there was plenty for me to explore, even though the house isn’t as, uh, wide as I thought. It reminds me of Julie. Not much fat on her, but a whole lot of leg to look at.
The second floor had two different rooms, both of them locked. The third floor I could hear some sort of scratching behind one of the doors, and the other one leads to a completely empty room, with paintings all up on the walls. That ones pretty weird, since all of them look like really bad landscapes, like some blind man had painted them.
I had gone to the forth floor where I got the text from my mother. And…
Well, I think you can at least guess the rest, right future me? After the whole wood chopping and destressing I did, I went back to exploring the attic fully before light faded on me.
There’s a lot of that old museum crap that’s up here. And a whole lot of, well, chests. Like, trunks? But like a proper pirate chest or something like that. I can’t even get into them. I have to find my lockpicking stuff in my bag. Or find something that I can use in the mean time. I mean, I would use my own bobby pins but after that dare from Julie I had shaved most of it off. Yeah, that was months ago, but it’s finally at a length to look halfway decent.
And of course I didn’t bring my bobby pins. I need a hair cut. No, I need a smoke. I need both.
I smelled the scent of tobacco the other day. And I swear it was coming from the old fart’s room. He smokes? Or something like that. Not having something in my mouth to suck and blow sucks. Of both varieties, I guess. Though I’ll take a cigarette far sooner than a penis.
So I guess for now I’m stuck with the black ends of my hair tickling my eyeballs until I get something to fix it.
I would look further, but candlelight only gives so much light for me to work with. I need to see if I can go like a goodwill and get a lamp. Or find one in this old old old old house.
If I don’t find something to do I’m gonna die of boredom. I already resorted to exploring this old place. And it’s been like what, four days? I gotta find something to do.
Robin
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