The water felt great.
I'd finally got round to shaving my legs
Finally.
All lathered up and belting the chorus of 'The Middle' by Jimmy Eats World, as if no one knew of my existence.
Half way through the bridge, my shower head starts to sputter, the pipes groaning. I could hear the burst in the attic from my bathroom.
I didn't expect my ceiling to fall through in front of me.
"Holy Shit!"
I almost topple out of the tub, shower curtain sticking to my wet skin. Eyes bulging as I take in the sight in front of me, trying to cover my naked body, as if it was the first time my bathroom had seen me naked.
Half of my ceiling and the roof had collapsed onto the floor in from of me and my one shaving-foam-covered leg.
My head bobbing between the gaping hole above me and the rubble scattered across the floor.
A hole. A massive hole, bigger than the window in my bedroom. Dripping water and full of dust, exposed broken pipes that nobody on this side of the bathroom ceiling has any business to see.
A sprinkle of plaster crumbles down as if to mock me.
The water damage had turned the interior of my shared housing green long ago. The mold infesting each of the beams had my stomach turning.
I told the estate agent multiple times that the water damage in the bathroom was going to do more harm the longer they ignored my concerns. I told them in December when damp spots first started appearing out of nowhere. I told them in January that when it rained, water would start running down the walls. I told them in March that it had started to rain above the toilet during extreme weather conditions.
I told them, I told them, I told them.
The other girls don't seem as bothered, with spending most of their time with their partners anyway.
Now I'm looking at my roof on my fucking floor.
"Stupid, shitty council housing." A colourful array of words tumble from my mouth as I grab my plaster-covered towel and begin squelching my hair out in the sink. I start to wipe the shaving foam off of my leg as I dial the number to the out-of-hours office.
I listen to their dull automated message that I've become all too familiar with, and take a deep breath just as the beep signals, allowing me to state my case.
"Hi," I address through gritted teeth, "This is Mackenzie Kennedy. Again…"
===============================================================
"Kenz," my mothers frown encapsulated me through the phone screen. " I don't know how many times I've told you that you need to give your notice on that place."
"Well. it's cheap and I'm broke, so," I remind her.
She takes a sip of the mojito in her hand, tapping her manicured nails against the glass. A male voice grumbles about something in the background.
"What a wonderful idea." Mum states as she turns and smiles at him.
"Cameron has that fold-out couch at his place. He's not that far from you. Is he bubbles?"
A groan leaves my mouth, "I cannot stay with Cam."
She frowns at me and Jack appears behind her on the video, hovering.
"I can't mum," I whine. "I need my own space."
" It'll be fun," Jack grins. " Just like when you were teenagers."
"Exactly!" Mum beams.
They turn to each other and share a look between themselves. I blush, cursing myself for disrupting their time with each other.
Jack has been in our family for years. Long enough to see both Myself and Cameron throwing tantrums about one thing or another. He worked really hard, long hours, and he has always treated my mother like she was the only woman on Earth. After my fathers messy affair, watching Jack and my mothers screen-worthy, rom-com romance showed me what a partnership is supposed to be.
Since his early retirement, they have been living the life of luxury on various cruises.
Calling them feels like popping their little love bubble. Every. Single. Time.
"I'll call Cam for you," Jack says gently. " You just pack your things and get ready for him to pick you up."
" You can't be staying in that awful flat, Kenzie," Mum smiles brightly at me, trying to calm my nerves.
I try to return my mothers warm encouragement, but it's obviously strained.
"I love you mumma."
"I love you bubbles." The call ends and I look up into the abyss that has carved its way into my ceiling.
Suppressing my scream, I begin to pack up my things.