I set my clocks early 'cause I know I'm always late [ic]

Tacoma mornings screamed in Abigail Barnett's ears like an alarm clock. Usually, she would get up at around, say, 6:30 in the morning but today was especially different. Yesterday, she had no idea what was going on and just like a ton of bricks landing on her head, she woke up at exactly 4. Her bright auburn red locks tossed up as she jolted into a seating position on her bed, startling her partner on the other side of the bed with her sudden movement. First order of the day? She squinted and stretched out, trying to get at least some of her slumber out of her while she still had the chance. The man next to her stirred and eventually woke up, pulling her back down as if he wanted her to go to sleep still. He mumbled incoherently, the Sandman apparently having taken over as he tried to utter at least something she could understand, but just as soon as he'd pulled her down, she got back up and off the bed, and she found herself shuffling off to do whatever morning regimen she had.

It was a strange sort of life she had. Twenty-odd years had gone by so quickly, she hardly had time to experience the joy of it all. Orphaned as a young girl, she'd never found joy in doing everything with her aunt and uncle, her father's siblings, but they were her surrogate parents and legal guardians. They'd have to do for CJ, her younger brother, and her. It was tough growing up, but she got over it. The only things she had left that really mattered were her remaining extended family and her best friends, who were the children of her parents' best friends. Although they'd all grown apart somehow, despite their continuous yet sporadic meet-ups, there was one who she managed to stick with everyday -- Samuel Benjamin Larkin.

He was just about a year her junior, but it seemed to her that Sam was even more mature than her. Crazy how he got her out of the craziest of scrapes one time too many, but that was probably because he'd done it himself at one point in the past. Like every best friend, she loved him dearly and like a brother, but there was always this one factor that attracted her to him, and that was one thing that she found a little disgusting. It was not his good looks. Heavens, no. That would've been too superficial, although she couldn't help but think so herself. It would forever remain an enigma, but for now, she'd just live her life writing columns for newspapers and scripts for big names in show business.

Next thing she knew, she was in the office, busily typing away at an editorial column, and found the biggest urge to annoy her cubicle-mate. Yep, you guessed it.
"Psst."

Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RolePlayGateway/~3/RsjV4JVYufM/viewtopic.php

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