Sometimes I just can't shake the feeling...that all these strange things that are happening, are somehow part of something much more.
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~Growing up on the lowly parts of New York City, Eric didn't mind the absence of his existence to the rest of the ever growing world. Living all by himself on a regular apartment after his parents passed, he's accustomed to the lone atmosphere. Calm, care-free, an underlie expectation, and a happy-go-lucky attitude. He eventually grew to accept that his life will be nothing more than barely a footnote in the phonebook's directory.
Unbeknownst to him, he was part of something greater.
"CRAWLING DISPOSITION"
CHAPTER 1
"Hey Eric, are you awake yet?" a young brunette asked with some volume as she knocked on an apartment door with the #313 on it. There was no reply so she knocked again, her casual attire addressed in the typical late morning of New York. A simple pale yellow scarf over her fitting black coat, a matching pair of black boots masked under her not to scantily green skirt, her hair in a neat ponytail while her bangs compliment her deep green eyes.
There was still no reply. She sighed to herself and knocked one final time. "C'mon Eric, don't tell me last night's party got to you a little bit too much."
Faint footsteps then sounded from inside the apartment room. The thudding noise seem like someone's heavy feet was plundering step by step as it was making its way to the front door. The large steps stopped, and a clicking noise to the doorknob being unlocked followed.
The door eased slightly, opening ajar to reveal a humble face. An ordinary young man, his brown hair parting on his eyes, and notably he gave a tiresome yawn. "Geez Michelle, did you have to knock so loud?" he remarked with a soft yet somewhat sarcastic voice.
"Oh my God look at you, how much did you drink last night?" the brunette asked concerning. He let her inside hospitably. The apartment wasn't much to look at, the average look of a rebellious young adult who just got out of college. Michelle didn't really mind, it wasn't like hers next door was any better. "Seriously, what happened in the bar after I left you with the others?"
"I'm not really sure. I guess I was out of it." Eric replied scratching the back of his neck. He himself noticed that he was still in his usual outdoor wear. His plaid blue shirt unevenly wrinkled all over along with his partly dusty pants.
Michelle took a seat by his bed, unruly and a complete mess. She was planning to invite the brown-haired boy for a little breakfast out in the town like they always do every Saturday, but after seeing his overwhelming condition. I guess it was out of the question.
"You know what the weird thing is?" Eric said as he made his way to his bathroom. He twisted the faucet knob and allowed the water to fluster in the sink. He cupped his hands and splashed a cold breeze on his face to maybe ease his morning jitter.
"What?" the brunette asked.
"I don't even remember coming back to my apartment." He said, taking a clean towel to wipe his dripping face. Not minding his current outlook, he neglected the idea of bothering to change since he was already set.
"Hmm...maybe you were just too drunk." Michelle poked with a humble giggle.
"Well, I know that!" Eric replied with the same optimistic sarcasm. But his expression still reverted to that of confusion, like a jumble puzzle is in his head that he can't entirely solve. "Strange thing is I could've sworn I left my keys in here last night." He walked over to his nightstand, and the aforementioned keys were in fact there, bundle together by his familiar key chain.
"Then how'd you manage to get in?" she asked with a raised brow herself, starting to join him in the strange phenomenon transpiring.
Eric then noticed his side window. It was fully open, the drapes flowing under the breeze of the New York morning. "I...don't...know." He remarked cryptically as he paced over there. The cold wind was ever present as it pressed against his face. He stuck his head out and peered below. It was a steep drive, no catwalks or anything, just a plain wall descending downward from the third floor at his apartment.
He leaned back inside before closing the window shut. "Hey...uh...still up for breakfast?" he then suggested.
"Are you sure you're going to be ok? I mean if you really don't want to, it's fine. You could use the rest." Michelle asked as she got up from her seat on his bed, starting to hand out concern for her troubled friend.
"No, it's cool. C'mon, maybe I'm just hungry." He replied with a smile, making a reach for his dark blue jacket hanging conveniently by his front door. Michelle followed him as they both headed out the door, she was still concern for his condition, but likewise a good breakfast may be all that he needed.
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