The day was very well started for many of the citizens of Jawan, all except for Tangi. The light peeped through her dusty windows, catching particles floating in midair like a searchlight. Finally, as the clock struck one-ish, the beam of light crossed her closed lids.
"Aaaugggh," her lids whipped open then shut in pain. She rolled over while with the heel of her hands she rubbed her dark eyes. She checked her large wall clock, her hands shielding the attack of sun from her sore eyes.
"Only one? Wow, totally thought it was, like, two."
She boosted herself up and ran her hands through her mess of hair. On her door (more of less a wall of posters, pictures, and other miscellaneous items, like the rest of her room) was a note. She tried her best to read it from her bed, but finding it impossible was forced to finally get up. Her back popped as she stretched as she made her way to the door through a maze of trash.
She squinted at the messy, all-capitalized writing as she tried to make sense of it.
DEAR TANGI,
PLEASE CLEAN YOUR ROOM. IT'S FILTHY.
ANYHOW, I WILL BE BACK BY NINE, I HAVE TO STAY LATE AT WORK. TRY NOT TO DESTROY ANYTHING OR HAVE ANY PARTIES, RUMBAS, BASHES, OR RIOTS WHILE I'M GONE. THERE'S DINNER IN THE FRIDGE.
LOVE,
LAIKA
Her landlord. Should've guessed. Tangi thought of her almost like a mother, seeing as she picked her up on the streets a few months ago, but if you asked her about Laika she'd sneer and sigh and act like any other rebellious teen. She tossed the note over her shoulder, flicked the switch on her stereo (placed handily right by the door), and exited her room as a rock song began to boom.
Her head shaking and her hips waving, she grabbed some eggs from the fridge and a frying pan. While waiting for the stove to warm up she took a swig of rice milk straight from the carton and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She gave a one-over sweep of the apartment with her eyes. Laika didn't have any pictures of her family, or friends, or anything to suggest a life outside of her work. Tangi wanted to ask a dozen times before, but it almost seemed like a taboo subject to approach her on.
"Maybe she killed her own family. Like, in a fire, you know?" she said over her shoulder to a spider plant in the window. She checked the heat on the pan before cracking two eggs into it. "Or, like, faked a suicide to get away from an abusive father or something." the spider plant didn't comment.
Tangi ate in silence after her breakfast was cooked, her foot tapping the linoleum floor to the music.
After her hair was done, her clothes picked out, and her mess in her room swept to one side, she went out into the warm air. She found a nice little cafe on the bay, ordered a chai tea, and sat and watched the waves in the afternoon light.
