You see, Rowan is the kind of girl who can't calm down, ever. She decides that maybe she will do this more often, this one shot of vodka thing.
She's also the kind of girl who prefers to talk about herself in third person. It's easier that way. That way she can pretend she is someone else. That way she can imagine a wonderful world. A world where she is just another character in a story. A world where she doesn't actually have to take on the responsibility of living.
That responsibility, she finds, is very difficult to take on sometimes. Especially tonight.
She wonders if maybe she should drink more. Just a little more...
Yes. The edge is still there, she decides. She's out of juice, though.
She watches the cat stretch out its horribly cute little toes and feels peaceful for a moment.
Rowan daydreams a lot, now that Claudia is gone. She also dreams a lot. She finds herself sleeping so much sometimes that her eyes hurt from lack of oxygen, if that's possible. She has dreams that seem brilliant, until she wakes up. Then they seem utterly boring.
Fatass begins to murr over and over on the bed. This makes Rowan feel crazy. It shouldn't exist... it really shouldn't...
"No, Fatass, go back to sleep."
"Please don't do that to me."
"I hate you..."
Rowan decides there is no point to her rambling. There's no point in writing a story without a point, so it's time to stop.