Killer Beauty

.03

I know I should be working out with some pilates instrutional DVD's, but instead I find myself in my bedroom, watching 'Bates Motel' on Netflix.

        I'm eating egg whites and drinking a strawberry smoothie, but I still crave popcorn or even a morsel of chocolate. I consider going to the market, but the climax of the season hits and I'm paralyzed, all wrapped up in blankets like a burrito of fangirl. I'm sure if someone tried to rob me currently, they'd get scared off at the weird animal-like noises I make whenever something exciting happens or one of the good looking male characters happens to be shirtless.

        I'm practically on the edge of my seat, slurping my smoothie and staring at the screen with such intensity that my eyes begin to ache, and then Norman Bates' face flickers to black as the power goes out.

        I blink. Once, Twice. 

        "Dammit." I sigh, leaning back into the pillows.

        After a few, long moments of boredom, I decide to slide off the bed and out of the warmth of the blankets. The cold air bites at my bare legs and arms, as I only sleep in my lingerie.

        I pull on my silk robe as I step into the bathroom. I brush my teeth and take the curlers out of my hair before combing it out. I step out of the bathroom and make my way over to my vanity. I take a seat and take the liquid foundation of the desk and a brush.

        I take my time perfecting my makeup, as I always do, and by the time I finish it''s nearly one in the afternoon.

        I slip into a simple, knee-length black dress. It is a one-shouldered dress and the back of the strap is long, draping over my back like a cape. I slide my feet into some simple black heels and pull on my peacoat.

        I walk down the stairs and into the foyer. I tell myself I'll unpack later, but I know I'll probably procrastinate for a few more days. Besides, I think to myself, you aren't in a rush.

        As I step outside and into the chilly air, I realize how little there truly is to do in this town.

        I find myself missing the excitement of the city and all of my friends as I saunter unhurriedly down the porch steps. 

        However, I think as I open the gate of my white picket fence. I don't miss the cut-throat modeling and competitive pageants. 

        I step out onto the sidewalk and begin my slow trek into town. Again, the streets are lonely and no one is outside. In New York, there were always people bustling to and fro. I never felt alone in the crowd. I always had something to do - somewhere to be. I didn't realize just how big of a change moving would be.

        I should have moved somewhere less busy, but still active. Like Utah or Idaho.

        Why I picked somewhere so small and isolated, I don't know.

        "Sparrow!" I hear from my left. 

        I jump in surpise, nearly stumbling on my feet. James is sitting in his car, idling beside me with a grin. 

        "Sorry." He says, grin growing. "'Where are you going?"

        I continue to my slow stroll and he follows me. "Oh, just down to the market."

        "I'm heading that way, too." He checks the road. "Wanna ride? It's pretty cold out here."

        "No, I'm alright." I decline polietly. I wanted to look around a little more, truth be told.