The fridge

I wake up in the dark; sweaty and cold. My vision is blurry, and I can’t find my glasses. 

I can’t read the numbers on the clock, and I can’t find my phone either. I look down to check what I’m wearing and see that I’m still in the clothes I wore at school. 

I manage to lift my aching body and sit upright. I see everything scattered all over in an unidentifiable mess. Messy blobs of black cloud my vision, highlighted only by the faint streetlight escaping through my curtains. I move my hand around and hear rustling and clinking noises. I’m surrounded by empty packets of chips and soda. I’m surprised nobody woke me up and asked me to clean up all this junk. 

School? No, I’m in university and university is terrible. 

So much work to do and I’m nowhere near finishing anything. Assignments, projects, reports, it never ends. I came home from university exhausted out of my mind. I raided my kitchen and ate a bunch of snacks before passing out on my bed. I’m pretty sure I have a deadline to meet by tomorrow but…Who cares. 

I thought living alone would be the peak of my adulthood but I’ve realised just how much I miss home when I’m away from it. I have to video call my mom every 2 days so I don’t spiral into insanity. 

I grab at random items scattered around me hoping my phone is buried under the rubble, but to no avail. I decide I’m going to have to get up and find it the hard way. 

I finally get my feet down on the floor and stand up. Its still dark but my eyes are finally adjusting. I can see the piles of clothes, books and bags on top of my bed. The floor is probably just as cluttered. 

Pausing my bullet train thoughts, I dump the items on top of my bed, onto the floor mindlessly, hoping my phone would be under the disarray but unfortunately, I still failed to spot it. 

I crouch onto the floor and look under the bed. More darkness. There’s suitcases and large cardboard boxes filled with random items I probably won’t need. I crawl under the tiny space, making my way to the very back of the bed where I can see a black square blob. My nose is filled with the pungent smell of dust and mildew and its oddly comforting because it reminds me of my room back home. I finally reach the end of the bed and grab my phone. 

”Gotcha!” 

The words come out rough and my voice doesn’t feel like my own. Perks of living alone include you only ever have yourself to talk to. 

I crawl back out from under the bed and feel a sense of relief looking at my phone. I reach for the tiny button on the side and click on it. Once… Twice …Thrice…holdddd… aaaand nothing. Of course, it’s out of battery I’m not even surprised at this point. I chuck it on my bed and tilt my head toward the ceiling feeling angry and frustrated.

My stomach. 

Why am I still hungry? My mouth feels dry and sour, my stomach is making so many noises, is almost as if it’s trying to talk to me. I need food. Food is the only solution to my problems. 90% of my bad days are cured with Ramen noodles and a bowl of Vanilla ice cream. I head out of my pitch-black room and head toward my equally dark kitchen. 

There she is. 

Standing there in all its glory, my saviour, my true love, the fridge. I can’t help but smile as I walk towards it and reach for the handle, awaiting the rush of cool air. I tug on the door and instantly, an staggering amount of light floods my eye. The light is warm and gentle and casts a glow on the food within it, as well as my face. It is such a simple thing, yet it makes me feel less alone. It comforts me in the dark of the night. Opening any other light at this time would give me a headache for sure but I know that at anytime of the day I can rely on my fridge light. I grab a tub of ice cream and some freshly cut fruit. The fridge keeps shining its luminescence towards the kitchen while I stand there and finished my food. Despite the chaos in my life, for just a second, I knew things were going to be okay.