` YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE [nixie]

[anthea morgan •]

( A N T H E A )

Anthea did not do mornings. Everytime her alarm clock went of at 7am she would roll over and throw the clock onto the floor before cosying back into her bed and sleeping for a couple more hours. That was what teenagers did, wasn't it? But, as her mother never wasted time telling her, she wasn't a teenager anymore. Technically she was an adult in age but she didn't feel like one mentally. She was supposed to be searching for a 'proper job' but what was the point? Yes, she wanted to achieve big but not now. Not when she was still a child, for goodness sake. All this she was thinking about as she lay in bed, her alarm clock on the ground completely broken. As a guess it was about ten minutes after seven. The blonde sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand to wake herself up properly. Anthea stood up from her bed, fumbling for her hairbrush. She had to brush her long blonde hair or it would look like a birds nest crossed with a bombsite. Heading towards her windowseat, she began to pull the brush down her locks. About five minutes later her hair was fully brushed and straightened. After checking that her pink streak was still... well, pink, she opened her wardrobe. She scanned the contents before pulling out some clothes, yanking the hangers off them.

Anthea pulled on a pair of combat jeans, slipping her phone into one of the pockets as she hitched them up. A few seconds later she had replaced her PJ tee-shirt with a bright red t-shirt with a sequined red heart motif. Of course, she wouldn't leave without a hoodie. Fishing one out of the pile by her bed, she grinned triaumphantly when she found one she wanted to wear. The hoodie jacket was pale blue with tons of pink stars decorating it. Anthea grabbed her sunglasses from the desk beside her wardrobe and left the bedroom. She ran down the stairs at top speed, jumping the last three steps. Luckily for her, her parents weren't up yet. Anthea grabbed a yoghurt drink and slurped it down. Placing the sunglasses over her eyes, Anthea headed towards the back door. The female slipped on her bright red sneakers and headed into the garden. She slipped through the back gate and began to walk.

Today was a Sunday so she was free for the day. Anthea strolled down the road into town, hands dug into her pockets. A sign caught her attention. 'BREAKFAST SERVED 6-11AM! ONLY $3.99 FOR FULL ENGLISH'. That yoghurt hadn't exactly filled her up; it had barely healed the wound of needing food. The nineteen year old found her feet leading her towards the restuarant. She caught site of the name of the restuarant just as she entered. The Bee Hive. Original, certainly. Anthea headed towards the counter and ordered the full English breakfast. As she waited for the cashier to count her money (It was in cents and a few dollars.) Anthea began to fiddle with the straws. Spin the spinny thingy, pull a straw out, spin it again... She was memorised with this routine until the cashier coughed politely to get her attention. Shaking herself out of it, she pointed to a random table and said that she was sitting there. With a sigh she slipped into the seat at her newly claimed table. Hopefully she would have an interesting day...

word count;; 581
music;; assorted
muse;; high.
outfit;; as picture and as described
comments;; not bad, if i do say so myself. =P
tagged;; nixie with leslie parker xD

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[Leslie Parker]

He had no alarm clock... unless one counted on ones mother. Said mother who was currently screaming at him to wake and come downstairs for breakfast. Parker ignored her and rolled onto his back, arms beneath his head as he stared blankly up at the white ceiling. The sheets on his bed, which was really little more than two mattresses stacked atop each other, as he hadn’t set the rest up yet, lay polled around his waist. “I’m up, mum! Geesh, woman, gimme a little time to get a shower!” He loved his mother, really, he did, but she could be just a little bit overbearing at times.
The woman yelled that he had half an hour before she personally came upstairs and drug him out of his room. Parker grinned. Trust his mum to do something like that... but he wasn’t planning on being around by that time. A glance at the wall clock told him that it was fairly early in the morning. The teenager rolled his eyes and jumped up from the bed, padding softly down the hall towards the bathroom.
After a fifteen minute shower, he was back in his room, hair wet and sticking up... not that that was a surprise due to the fact that his hair always stuck up... that was what he got for keeping it cut so short. He grabbed whatever clothes were lying around, not caring if he’d already worn them, and threw them on. Once he was done, he glanced in the mirror, liking what he saw.
Parker’s legs were encased in a pair of ripped camouflage cargo pants; the pants were too long, and flowed over his combat boots, nearly hiding the worn black boots from view. A white wife-beater hid his lightly muscled chest and over it he wore a button-down black shirt that he’d ripped the sleeves off of about a year ago. His grandfathers ‘dog-tag’ necklace was hidden away beneath his shirt and a black wristband was set snugly around his arm. Yes, Parker liked what he saw.
He glanced back at the wall clock and noted with a small smirk that he had roughly ten minutes before his mum made due on her threat to come up and drag him down. Perfect. In a few long strides he moved to the only window in his room, opening it quietly and quickly.
Listening for any sign of his mother, Parker slipped out the window, grabbing his car keys off the nightstand, and carefully climbed down, using the trellis and his mothers prized creeping vines for hand and footholds. He reached the ground safely and jogged around the side of the house to the carport, listening to the sounds of his mum making breakfast.
Parker chuckled, it was too easy to escape from his mother. Not that he had to escape, she’d let him go virtually anywhere... but he liked it... plus, it annoyed the hell out of the woman. He slid into the drivers seat and turned the switch, listening as the ’87 Camaro roared to life. The car was his mothers, but he was driving it. It wasn’t the best car on the block... actually, it was pretty much junk, and in Parker’s personal opinion, the vehicle belonged in a scrap yard... but it ran ok and got him where he wanted to go.
“One... two...” The teenager muttered as he eased around his mums’ car, a much nicer Nissan Maxima. His eyes didn’t stray from the front door, as he knew his mum would have heard the car start up. As soon as he got completely around the other car, the front door flew open. And there was his mum, red splotches on her cheeks, a frying pan in her hand as she ran out of the house, her hair flying behind her. “PARKER!” She screamed, “Get back here!”
Parker smirked mockingly at her and gave a two fingered salute as he reached the end of the drive. He waited until his mother was just a few strides away from the vehicle before shifting the gears to drive and flooring it. The car didn’t catch at first, then with a whine it caught and took off right as his mother reached it.
“Be home later, mum... got things to do and people to see!” Parker yelled out the window as he sped away, thanking the gods above that the car had caught in time. Stupid hunk of junk. The car flew down the road, gaining speed. Parker glanced at the time, then remembered that the radio’s clock was screwed up and therefore didn’t tell the time. He grinned at his own stupidity and took the corner a little more sharply that he was supposed to.
The boy wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do... not visit the stable, that was for sure. Parker enjoyed it, but he was in no mood to try and get his mare to cooperate with him today. He slowed down and grabbed a Black Sabbath CD from his dash, popping it in and twisting the volume control knob up as far as it could go without busting his speakers. Surprisingly, the car had some pretty good speakers. The music blasted out, so loud that Parker could feel the vibrations from the speakers through his boots
He drove around for a while like this, occasionally getting angry or odd looks which he ignored with ease. The Aussie just smiled mockingly at the people, occasionally giving his two fingered salute and a lazy wave.
Things continued this way, with Parker just depleting the cars gas for no real reason, until his stomach made its anger known at being forced to go so long without food. The boy groaned in frustration... he was having fun pissing off the ‘nobles’ (as he was calling the other early risers). After another small growl from his stomach, he leaned back and slowed the vehicle down, his dark brown eyes looking for a small café or something.
He squeezed the Camaro into a parking spot outside of a nice looking small restaurant. Hopefully it was fairly cheap, he didn’t want to spend a lot of money on food. Honestly, his stomach said ‘food’, but his mind said ‘no’. Nevertheless, he knew that he had to eat something, even if it was just a little something.
With that thought, Parker slid his six foot frame out of the car and entered the restaurant. He strode up to the counter, not paying any attention to the people already in the café. After ordering a basked of biscuits, a small pack of whipped spread, and an ice water, he stood to the side to wait for his breakfast, only now letting his eyes rove over the other customers. It was truly amazing to see who all else were early risers like himself.

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Words: 1133
Muse: Good

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