Angela was abruptly jolted awake by the sound of her phone vibrating against her pillow. Groggily, she reached for it, still half-asleep, her fingers fumbling to pick it up. She squinted at the screen, and when her eyes finally adjusted, they flew wide open in disbelief.
"10:30?!" she whispered to herself in shock. How the hell did I sleep in this late?
Her body was still sluggish with sleep, but her mind was already racing. She remembered planning to go to bed at a decent hour last night, but as usual, that plan went to hell. Facebook. It was always Facebook. She could remember herself thinking, Alright, this is the last text, and then—like some addict—finding herself responding to even more messages, jumping from conversation to conversation. One notification would pop up, and then she'd get sucked into another endless chat. It wasn't until she couldn't even remember the last time she glanced at the clock that she'd dozed off.
She sighed and dropped her phone back on the bed. Her muscles still felt heavy with exhaustion, but she knew she couldn't stay in bed any longer. She sat up, rubbing her eyes.
God, what time did I even fall asleep? She had no clue. Her phone must have died during the night, and she wouldn't be surprised if her mom had come in and plugged it in for her while she knocked out, phone practically glued to her face.
Angela stretched, her joints cracking in the process, and pushed herself out of bed. She walked over to the mirror, staring at her reflection. Hair a mess. Puffy eyes. Typical. "I look like I got hit by a truck," she muttered to herself, running her hands through her tangled hair.
Grabbing her toothbrush, she began her morning routine, though 'routine' was a bit of a stretch. She lazily brushed her teeth, barely paying attention as her mind wandered back to the late-night chats. Half of them she didn't even care about, just responding out of boredom. Why the hell did she do that to herself? Because you have no self-control, Angela, she thought with a smirk.
Once her teeth were somewhat clean, she hopped into the shower, letting the water cascade over her tired body. The warm water helped, easing the last bits of grogginess from her muscles. She stood under the stream for a moment, head tilted back, eyes closed, letting herself wake up fully. After scrubbing her body with lavender-scented soap and shampooing her hair, she finally turned off the water and stepped out, wrapping herself in a towel.
Standing in front of her wardrobe, she stared blankly at the clothes, not really in the mood to get all dressed up. She picked the plainest outfit she could find—a loose T-shirt and a pair of old jeans. Comfort over style. She wasn't trying to impress anyone today, anyway. She pulled her hair into a messy bun and stared at herself in the mirror again, shrugging.
"Good enough."
When she walked out of her room, she noticed how quiet the house was. Too quiet. She knew her mom was always off doing something—errands, maybe. But what about her siblings? They were usually around making noise. It's the holidays, she thought, frowning. Where the hell are they?
The house felt eerily still, which was unusual. Angela shrugged it off and made her way to the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat. She wasn't exactly in the mood to cook anything. When she got there, she found a loaf of bread sitting on the table.
"Thank God it's not pap or custard," she muttered to herself, rolling her eyes. She had a special kind of hatred for pap. "I love bread."
She pulled out the loaf and grabbed some butter from the fridge, slapping it on the bread without any real effort, smearing it lazily before taking a bite. It was simple, but she was too hungry to care. While chewing, she absentmindedly set the kettle to boil some water for tea, the quietness of the house starting to bug her.
Where is everyone?
Angela tried to shake off the unease creeping into her mind. She told herself it didn't matter. Honestly, she didn't even care that much. A quiet house was a blessing in disguise. But still, something about it felt…off.
She poured herself a mug of tea once the water was ready and sipped on it, enjoying the warmth. As she sat there eating her bread and sipping tea, she couldn't help but think about last night again. Facebook had her in a chokehold. She hated how it controlled her sometimes. I swear, I'm such a fucking idiot, she thought. She'd wasted hours scrolling, messaging, getting sucked into other people's drama, and for what? To wake up feeling like crap.
The notifications hadn't even stopped, either. As she absentmindedly checked her phone again, there were still messages flooding in, all of them unread. Some guy she barely knew had sent her like ten messages, and there were even more friend requests waiting. She swore people on Facebook had no chill.
Whatever, she thought, shoving her phone into her pocket. She wasn't about to get sucked into that again. Not yet. She wasn't ready to deal with more of the same.
Taking another bite of bread, Angela stared at the empty kitchen, feeling strangely disconnected. Maybe I should go see where everyone went, she considered for a moment. Or maybe I should just chill and enjoy the peace and fucking quiet.
Yeah, she wasn't going to look for them. The peace was too good to pass up.
Finishing her tea, she leaned back in the chair, wondering what to do with the rest of her day. There was a lot of time left, but no motivation to do anything with it. Another Facebook binge? Maybe. But after last night, she wasn't exactly thrilled to dive back into that black hole just yet.
But then again, what else was there to do?
God, I need a life, she thought bitterly, standing up to clean her mug.