The sphere-shaped light bulbs above my head flicker for the third time as I drag my paint brush along the canvas. A calm blue streak flashes darker with the lack of light. Dipping the bristles into the broken jar of paint beside my hip, I sigh but continue to ignore the flickers until it becomes more prominent.
"Stupid lightbulbs. I knew I should've paid more for them, but I just don't have the money..." I sigh, heavily annoyed.
I pick up my brush, wipe the extra paint off the side of the jar, and walk over to my paint sink. It looks like a piece of junk - white but dirty, rusty pipes, and all that jazz, but it works for all-intensive purposes. I use it daily for washing anything paint related.
I ignore the squealing noise as I turn the left knob for hot water. Soon enough, the clear liquid runs through, filling the room with steam. I pull up the sleeves of my sweater and put my hand under the stream of hot water.
The heat warms me as I press the bristles between my fingers, trying to rid the brush of paint. Eventually, I get most of it out, but not without getting my thumbs covered in colour in the process.
Of all times, my phone begins to ring. I drop the paint brush, wash the paint off my fingers, and turn off the water. The towel on the wooden countertop seems to scream at me as I wipe my wet hands on my black leggings.
Running over to the white sofa in the living room, I quickly grab my iPhone off the oak coffee table. The screen shows the face of my best friend. I hit the green 'Answer' button while scurrying back to the sink.
"Hey, Josh. What's up?" I press the phone up to my ear with my shoulder as I pull the paintbrush out of the sink.
"Hey!" The voice says with a little too much excitement. "Are you doing anything tomorrow? I was thinking of heading down to watch the Bluejay's game if you'd come with me."
"Um, don't you have to buy tickets like, a while beforehand?" I sigh before drying off the brush on the paint towel beside my hip. I drop it in the rusty can of paintbrushes before heading to the couch.
"Yea, but this bartender guy got two tickets. Apparently he doesn't want to go anymore so he's willing to sell them to me for half price!" Josh exclaims excitedly. I pick up my sweater from the white coach and throw it across the room before sitting down.
"Alrighty, sounds sketchy but okay. How much for my ticket?"
"Keep your money. I'm paying this time." I could hear him smiling before he began talking again. "Are you doing anything right now?"
It doesn't take me long to think of what I have planned today. "The usual. Why?"
"You're always painting! Don't you get sick of it? Don't you get, like, lonely?"
"Nah. It's very calming, actually."
"Anyways, I'll be there in 15 minutes." Josh wasn't one to ask permission to come over. If he wanted to come here, he was going to come here. I could hear him pulling a sweater over his head before he hangs up.
I pick up the TV remote and flick through channels for a while. I sit there, watching a rerun of Spongebob Squarepants, until I nod off into a comforting sleep.
Author's Note: Hiya! This is my first story on here, so please bare with me. This chapter was only a introduction, which is the reason why it was so short. As the story goes on, the chapters will grow in length.
This is going to be a One Direction fan fiction, even though no one has showed up in the Introduction. Harry will be introduced within the next couple chapters, so please, stay updated!
I hope you enjoy!
P.S. Don't be a ghost reader - please vote and comment!
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a ficticious manner. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
To protect the privacy of certain individuals the names and identifying details have been changed.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain noncommercial uses permitted by copywrite law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed "Attention: Permissions Coordinator," at the address below.
Written and published in Canada.
First Publication, 2015
All Rights Reserved by happyharryblogger
This story contains abusive situations, as well as suggestive themes. Some chapters may deal with self harm and/or depression. There will also be sexual content.
Read at your own risk! Please, if you're under 15, make sure you are fully comfortable with reading this material before continuing.
Also, if you deal with self-harm, depression, or have issues with an abuser, please immediately seek help! Although professional help is the best choice, a friend or family member is also effective. Trust me when I say that life gets better! I have been there and dealt with it. Things may seem dim but life does get better, if you let it.