I wake up.

Finally, they've gone. Wait... have they?

I make a moan of what I hope is, "Mom?", which echoes down the hallway, and the stairs.

Good. They're gone.

I smile, vaguely remembering what happened after midnight, but there's a distant memory of Mom and Dad leaving first (they said their usual bed time was 8:30). Then the snot nosed kid and my sister left, never to be seen again until another Christmas, which, by the way, is still too soon.

After that, I brought out a bottle of vodka and ten shot glasses.
And I don't remember anything else.

What the hell...

I'm lying in my bed, cuddled up to a pillow with a terrible headache.

I don't often get drunk, but after a visit from the family, I guess I just need a little pick me up. Urgh. That was just a drop me down. I'm sticking to lemonade and coca cola from now on.

Well, hopefully.

I guess living alone has made me more relaxed. I never really liked the whole 'people' concept anyway.

I decide to go back to sleep again, it's not like I have anything to do today. I do have a deadline for my book, but that's not until the end of February.

I wake up late in the afternoon. Still in my short black party dress, which has risen from my thighs to over my waist, revealing my fluorescent orange underwear. What can I say? When you live alone, no one's going to see them.

Anyway, I'm feeling a little better, so I get my portable DVD player and soak in the bath watching My Little Pony. It's a nice habit, and I watch the cider episode.

After my bath, I get changed into my favourite custom made 20% Cooler pyjamas (let's just say I know a guy).

Then I drive straight into cleaning. That's the thing with me. See, when I get into cleaning, it's hard to get me out of it until I've completely cleansed everything in the house at least once a day. It's strangely addictive for me, and it feels great to know that, even though my life crumbled many years ago, I can still find some structure in my house.

As I clomp down the stairway, I think about what's going to happen next in my latest chapter book.

Maybe I'll read the FIM (Friendship is Magic) fan fictions, out of pure boredom and for inspiration. Most are very creative, but I never really liked those horror ones about Pinkie Pie. How would she feel if she ever saw or read that?

I know she's just a spot of pixels and animation, but that still isn't very nice.
Plus, I'm not into the whole 'insanity' thing.

I walk into the lounge room that my family was sitting in only last night.
Technically, it was this morning, but it's only morning after I wake up. It's close to the door, which is great for a quick getaway.
My eyes rake with an ignited fury over the mess before my eyes. Chicken bones stuffed into the corners of the couch.

Pizza crusts and an empty pizza box, all over the ground.

Oh my gosh, there's even an empty coke bottle, most of its contents have spilled and soaked into the carpet...
My family.
Are.

PIGS!

And... did somebody throw ice cream on the TV screen?

This is going to take me a good three hours. Why three? Obviously, I need to get every single drop of coke out of that beautiful white carpet of mine. Then, of course, the TV is going to need a good scrubbing.

After that, the couch will need a huge dirt lift from it, what with my germy family and all. Oh, and then the walls will be too dirty because, well, what if one of them... um... breathed on it?!

That's it. I'm making sure that there was absolutely no trace of them ever stepping foot into my house.

Actually, I think the whole house needs a deep cleanse, too. Then, of course, the outside will need it as well. I don't particularly like my rooftop to have toxic city smoke on it.

Oh, and the outside walls might need an extra scrubbing... and, maybe the driveway needs some vacuuming...

Time for cleaning fit!

After a few house, I'm exhausted. I don't know what's gotten into me, I'm usually totally pumped for vacuuming the bed.

I cleaned the lounge room so briefly. I only picked up all the rubbish, vacuumed the floor, vacuumed the floor twice, vacuumed the sofa, took the pillows off the sofa, vacuumed underneath the cushions, put the cushions back on, vacuumed the sofa again, scrubbed the table, dried the table, scrubbed it and dried it again, repeated the process, wiped the TV with a cloth, then scrubbed the TV with a moist cloth, then sprayed it with germ killer, decided the germ killer was too germy, so I scrubbed it off, dusted the DVDs over thirty times, wiped the DVDs, dusted the TV cabinet, then rubbed it with a cloth, got all twenty bottles of carpet cleaner and scrubbed it all into the coke stain, cleaned the whole carpet so it was about two shades whiter, dried the carpet, wiped down the walls, wiped them down again, wiped them down a third time, washed the windows, dried the windows, repeated this five times, wiped the light switch with a cloth, evened out the height of the soil in the pot plant, then vacuumed the floor again.

If you found that confronting, I'm sure you wouldn't want to hear about how I cleaned in the kitchen.

My stomach growls, so I leave my bedroom (after doing my laundry) to make some toast, then sit in the exact centre of the purple couch and watch My Little Pony on cable.

I take a perfect bite of my toast, trying not to get a crumb to fall. Must not get even a speck of Nutella on my face. If I do, I'll freak out.

I never knew why I love cleaning so much. I guess it's a way to forget. Just to forget everything in my life so far. Like Mark...

I shake my head. I'm done with my food anyway. I stand up and somewhat forcefully turn the TV off with the remote. I wash the dish in the kitchen, dry it perfectly, and place it in the cupboard, exactly where they were supposed to be.

I walk over to the fridge to get some orange juice, eating chocolate-covered toast makes you thirsty.

Opening  the fridge, I huff a sigh of disappointment. There is an orange juice bottle, but with only a few drops left in it.
Who's going to drink that teeny bit of orange juice?! WHO DOES THAT?!
Oh, wait, heheh... I think that was me.

Damn. Another thing about living alone, you can ever blame your shortage of food on other people.

I search around in the fridge, seeing if there's anything I feel like drinking right now, other than orange juice. But there's not. Maybe I should walk down to the shops to buy something?

I glance out the kitchen window, over the sink.

I can't, it's about to get dark, and after dark, the city can get really dangerous.

I can't take the car, the landlord says I haven't been paying my bills as much (how can I? Everything is getting more and more dirty), so I should only use the car if I absolutely have to.

There's just enough time to get changed and walk to the shops... Problem is, it's pretty far away, at least a 20 minute walk, or so.

I get dressed quickly, before brushing my hair thoroughly. I shouldn't have taken so long, it's getting darker now.

I sashay my way out of the house in a light, pink dress, almost forgetting to lock the door. My high heels make loud clicks as I clop them across the stone path and into the street. The sun is setting, and everything is getting colder and darker.

I suddenly regret wearing high heels.

I walk as quickly as I can (it's turning into more of a trot) down the pathway to the shops. I pass tall, stony buildings that poke high into the sky, none able to reach up enough to touch the thick, black clouds forming. Uh-oh.
I trot slightly faster as a black car roars past my ear on the hard road beside me. The shops are only a few blocks away, I keep telling myself.

After about fifteen minutes, I approach the shop (yes!) and walk in. The air conditioned room feels refreshing, much nicer than the cold humidity outside. I grab a basket and get what I need, leaving the building with two crinkly, grey plastic bags in either hand.

I glance up to see sky is getting even darker now, and the clouds are getting bigger and greyer. I hurry, heels clicking quickly down the concrete, streetlamp-lit pathway.

Dammit! Why'd I wear these?
Please don't let it be too late....

As I pass one of the many dark alleyways. Suddenly, I hear a strange squeaky noise coming from something down it.

"Huh?" I murmur, I stopping in my tracks at the entrance.

The trash cans lined up on either side of the narrow way, and a few crushed cardboard boxes, create dark shadows, so I can't see if there' sandy thing down there.

I pause for a moment, then shrug. It was probably just my imagination. I shake off the thought, beginning to walk away.

Then there's that whine again, and I stop once more. It sounds so sad, like a sorrowful whimper.

I want to go and see what's in that alleyway, but it looks like a storm's coming, and it is getting dark....
Oh, what the hell? I have nothing much to lose, I already know I'm gonna get soaked before I get home. Just a quick look wouldn't hurt.

I scramble in my heels back to the alleyway, where the wails of whatever is down there seems to call to me. I fumble down the narrow way, cursing my heels for the thousandth time since I left the house.
Dumping my groceries halfway in, I shove my hands in the pockets of my fake-leather jacket. It's getting cold, and this is really the only thing I've got going for me.

It smells really bad down here. Like, REALLY bad. I scrunch up my nose in disgust.

"Urgh," I growl.

The sound is coming from the back of the alleyway.

What is it?

I squint my eyes to see, stepping towards a square-ish looking figure, until I realise it's a perfectly shaped cardboard box. My eyes widen in surprise as I glance around. All the other boxes here are crushed or demented in some way.

Whatever's making that noise, it's under this box.

A few fat raindrops plop on my head, but I ignore them. I kneel down above the cardboard box, pressing my hands gently around the sides. It better not be a rat attempting to steal my earrings. These are my favourite pair.

I wonder what it is? A kitten? A puppy?

I suck in a breath, my hands trembling. Why am I so nervous? I have no idea why, but now that I'm shaking, I can't stop.
I growl to myself. Just pick it up!

Abruptly, I lift the box up.

My eyes widen in complete surprise and utter shock at the pink bundle in front of me.