The Girl

“Just get up and have a shower” she thought to herself. Doing that would be an achievement at this point. it took every ounce of positivity and motivation she could muster just to take her eyes off of her phone and pull herself out of bed. She had spent the whole morning mindlessly scrolling until she found herself reading some random click bait article that contained the word shower, a sign from the universe she thought as she scrambled for the inspiration to not be the same lazy piece of shit she had been yesterday. The article described a form of ‘shower meditation’. It suggested that if you enter the shower with a will to change your life and you genuinely believe it to be possible you can exit the shower into a different reality. Nothing extreme like an alternate universe where the sky is purple, and the ocean is made of diamonds. It would be a reality exactly like your own, but with minor changes.

She looked around trying to imagine what this new reality would be. Her room was empty, nothing but a pile of clothes strewn across her mattress and the floor. Her apartment was so small that she could see her oven and her toilet from where she slept. The bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and living area were all combined in one way or another. She lived in what most real estate agents would call a ‘studio’ apartment, but she always envisioned living in a studio apartment would be far more artistic. She stared aimlessly into the mirror and thought about the child she once was. A young, hopeful girl that really believed there was so much more to this world and that magic could exist. She wished she could return to being the kind of person that thought anything was possible, her brain wandered to a time when it was consumed by stories of magical places and fairy tales. She longed to be able to think like that again. Her brain had wandered off again and she realised she was procrastinating so she finally got up and got into the shower.

The water was scorching hot. “maybe that will help the process” she thought humorously as she slipped her leg into the shower. It burnt her a little bit, but she was entertained by how long the steam lingered off her skin as she pulled it out of the stream of water. She tried to convince herself she was going to step out of the bathroom with a new reality, although a positive attitude and a productive day was all she really hoped to achieve.

She stepped out of the shower in a daze. That was the longest shower ever, she thought. The sound of the phone ringing startled her, so she rushed out to answer it, but she didn’t make it in time. Almost instantly a text message came through from her best friend,

“I swear if you’re still asleep I’m going to be so mad! I’ll be there in 20 minutes, so you better be ready!”.

Confused about the message she decided to reply with, “I think you might have sent this to the wrong person ha-ha”,

Maybe she had she forgotten that she made plans with Amelia today. Surely, she would remember something like that though.

“Honestly girl, you’re hilarious. Seriously though I have work in a few hours so get your shit together so we can have lunch at the pub before we go pick up your new furniture!” Amelia replied.

What the fuck is she talking about she thought before responding with “Have you lost your mind? I can’t afford a pub lunch at the moment let alone new furniture”

“Stop pretending you’re broke so you don’t have to buy me lunch, I borrowed my brothers’ trailer for this! The longer you procrastinate the less beers we get to drink with lunch so get up ya bloody comedian!”. There was something about Amelia and her familiar banter that made her rush to get ready without questioning it further.

She started sifting through her clothes trying to find something to wear and then something caught her eye. She stared at it from across the room confused and bewildered.

A little black book was sitting on her pillow, the same pillow she had been laying on for hours while scrolling on her phone. The book seemed familiar, but only because she always bought books like this when she was young, they reminded her of a witches’ secret spell book, or the kind of book you would write songs or poetry in. It fit in perfectly with her collection of random dusty journals that she bought for no reason and never wrote in. The idea of old handwritten journals and notebooks mesmerised her, it was because of this love of them that she knew deep down that she had never seen this book before in her life.

What the hell did I do last night? Did I get black out drunk or something, she wondered as she started to reach for the book to investigate. The front door swung open. “I fucking knew it!” Amelia said, “I knew you slept in and you weren’t going to be ready, you’re still wearing a towel! bloody hopeless you are!”. At this point she was anxious about why she couldn’t remember making plans, so she decided to just go along with them. She rolled her eyes jokingly, got dressed and started to head for the door. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Amelia said whilst pointing at the little black book.

The world looked brighter, the trees seemed greener, and the air felt fresh. She had no idea where they were going but she was too embarrassed to ask at this point. Amelia pointed out that they were running late and had to go straight to store to get the furniture. They pulled up at the loading zone of the store and a man came up to the window and asked for the reference numbers for the items they were purchasing. She stared at Amelia as she thought she was going to give the man the information “are you fucking high, give him the book! What is wrong with you today dude” Amelia said while taking the book out of her hand and passing it to the man. They sat in an awkward silence while the trailer was being loaded with furniture. She didn’t know what was going on and she could tell that Amelia was starting to notice. The man came to the window of the car and informed them that everything was loaded and ready to go. He handed her back the little black book with an invoice for the furniture as well “its best you check for yourself that the items match your invoice and then you can head to the desk to make payment” he said with a smile on his face as he pointed to the desk. When she unfolded the invoice, she instantly noticed the total amount of $20,000 “okay thank you for your help” she said to the man while she tried to hide her panic because she knew that she could afford this furniture. She got out of the car and walked over to the desk she didn’t bother to check the furniture because she knew it wouldn’t matter when her credit card declined. This has got to be some stupid prank Amelia is playing on me she thought as she approached the desk. She presented her card, she entered her pin, the payment was approved almost instantly.

She was so excited to arrive home again, the whole day had been such a blur that she was happy to finally be alone so she could figure out what was happening. The book and the invoice sat in front of her on the bed and no matter how many times she flipped through it she still didn’t remember scribbling down the notes for the furniture, but she knew it was her handwriting in that little black book. The day played over in her head countless times, how was it 6pm already? How did she have the money for the furniture? Why can’t she remember what happened yesterday? She decided to check her bank account to try to find some answers, when she logged into her usual bank account it looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. Her parents helped her start this bank account when she was younger, and she had used the same one since. She reached for her purse and pulled out the credit card she used when she paid for the furniture. It was definitely hers; she knew it was, but when did she get it? She tried to log into an internet banking account using the details from her credit card but she didn’t know the password. At this point she figured she must be going insane, it felt like the more questions she asked the more confused she became. She tried to make a new online account and she typed in the name on the card. Something clicked in her brain; Was this her credit card? Was this her name?

She couldn’t remember the last time somebody called her by her name.