Inked Memories (Dedicated to Ri), chapter 3
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"Hey dude, wake up," I heard a deep, gruff voice coming from somewhere. Then, a big, rough hand gently taps my cheek.
I rubbed my eyes and tried to peer through the darkness...the curtains were pulled shut.
"Oh man, I thought you'd never wake up! You took quite a fall there." I could still hear the voice, but couldn't find its origin.
I wondered if it was all just a dream. I felt through my thick hair to the back of my scalp.
"Ouch!" I could feel a lump the size of a plum. It pulsed a sore, stinging sensation through my head.
The anonymous voice began again...
"Ya' know, for such a petite person, you fall pretty heavily. It was lucky I was there. If I hadn't caught the back of your jumper, you would be in a lot worse state!"
Finally my eyes got used to the poorly lit room and managed to make out Tim's distinctive, hulk-like frame. I sat up on something cushiony; it felt like a bed-my bed. I saw my black and red guitar sitting in the corner of the room.
"I, I'm home, but, what happened?" I stared up at Tim who was now standing and walking around the room.
"I'm not entirely sure myself," he replied. "One minute you're standing up, next you are on the ground. I figured it was either my bear hug, or you meeting Billie Joe tomorrow. But anyway, apart from that, you are fine."
I just blinked at him. Suddenly, everything came rushing back.
"I must get up now and practice!" I replied as I leaped from the mass of pillows and blankets, reluctantly landing on the floor once again.
Tim laughed.
"Oh no, you're far too weak at the moment, look, it's nine now. Have a good night's sleep and come in early tomorrow, we'll practice on some pig skin from the butcher's so you are ready for B.J.'s great entrance!"
I sighed. "Fine, I guess I do need to get a few more hours' kip once in a while. After all, a bit of late night clubbing doesn't do one much good."
"If you mean 'a bit of late night clubbing' to 'a week straight of late night clubbing', then yes, it DOESN'T do you much good."
"OK, OK, I get it." And with that I rolled back onto my bed.
"I'll see you tomorrow then, shall I?" Tim said.
"Yeah, sure, whatever," I replied, pulling the blankets up to my shoulders, the bed was still warm and cozy.
"Nighty night," he added before slowly closing the door behind him.
'God,' I thought. 'How the hell did he manage to get me in here?' I noticed that the curtains were floating slightly. It was almost hypnotic to watch; it was like a ghostly figure waving at me. It reminded me of Keira. I turned on my side and fell asleep.
I rubbed my eyes and tried to peer through the darkness...the curtains were pulled shut.
"Oh man, I thought you'd never wake up! You took quite a fall there." I could still hear the voice, but couldn't find its origin.
I wondered if it was all just a dream. I felt through my thick hair to the back of my scalp.
"Ouch!" I could feel a lump the size of a plum. It pulsed a sore, stinging sensation through my head.
The anonymous voice began again...
"Ya' know, for such a petite person, you fall pretty heavily. It was lucky I was there. If I hadn't caught the back of your jumper, you would be in a lot worse state!"
Finally my eyes got used to the poorly lit room and managed to make out Tim's distinctive, hulk-like frame. I sat up on something cushiony; it felt like a bed-my bed. I saw my black and red guitar sitting in the corner of the room.
"I, I'm home, but, what happened?" I stared up at Tim who was now standing and walking around the room.
"I'm not entirely sure myself," he replied. "One minute you're standing up, next you are on the ground. I figured it was either my bear hug, or you meeting Billie Joe tomorrow. But anyway, apart from that, you are fine."
I just blinked at him. Suddenly, everything came rushing back.
"I must get up now and practice!" I replied as I leaped from the mass of pillows and blankets, reluctantly landing on the floor once again.
Tim laughed.
"Oh no, you're far too weak at the moment, look, it's nine now. Have a good night's sleep and come in early tomorrow, we'll practice on some pig skin from the butcher's so you are ready for B.J.'s great entrance!"
I sighed. "Fine, I guess I do need to get a few more hours' kip once in a while. After all, a bit of late night clubbing doesn't do one much good."
"If you mean 'a bit of late night clubbing' to 'a week straight of late night clubbing', then yes, it DOESN'T do you much good."
"OK, OK, I get it." And with that I rolled back onto my bed.
"I'll see you tomorrow then, shall I?" Tim said.
"Yeah, sure, whatever," I replied, pulling the blankets up to my shoulders, the bed was still warm and cozy.
"Nighty night," he added before slowly closing the door behind him.
'God,' I thought. 'How the hell did he manage to get me in here?' I noticed that the curtains were floating slightly. It was almost hypnotic to watch; it was like a ghostly figure waving at me. It reminded me of Keira. I turned on my side and fell asleep.
