She was so late, Melanie Copper came bounding down the stairs, then made a hard left turn down the hall, with her long brown hair whipping across her face. 20 minutes and counting, she has not even thought about what she was going to wear, damn.
She tore into her room with her sweatshirt half pulled across her torso. A strategic kick put the door back into it's frame.
She shed the first layer of her clothes, and in a search to find her atire she kicked up a storm that ruined every corner of her room, she was determined to conquer the realm that was her shabby two room flat, but that was not happening tonight, of all nights.
Melanie hastily shimmed out of her ripped jeans, tossed her shirt onto her bed, and hurled herself over to her closet. The wide plank floor boards felt cool against her toes making her feel uneasy along the way.
ome on she thought ripping at the silk curtain 10 years of compulsive shopping crammed into a barely standing wardrobe. Melanie pulled an undescive face, she knew she had a few decent dresses knocking about.
At the age of 29, she was petite capable and the diplomat. She had been abandoned as a child at city general hospital with no memory of where she came from, but that have been a long time ago and you didn't think of those days much. She had an adoptive father who she respected, an adoptive mother whom she loved dearly, an older brother of which she worshipped, and an indulgent godfather who she adored.
Until recently she had considered her family to be very close. They were not just another rich family, they were a tight-knit family. she kept telling herself that they would not be like that for much longer.
Melanie had graduated from Ohio 6 years earlier the family as an enthusiastic cheering section. she had returned home nearly straight a way after finishing graduating since her mum had one of her "spells" and it somehow seemed easiest for everyone if she stayed. She was now a professional event organiser, her time in the job mostly consisted doing ins and outs of charity work. Lots of details, lots of work, lots of planning.
Melanie always pulled them off. The work for her was next to no effort at all, yet people where always grateful for what she did.
But then there was nights like tonight, her commissioner had asked her to put together a small gathering for some of the richest people that pay into her charity.
She swore that every time she tried to make the best of the bad situations had to deal with, something or someone, had to mess something up. 30 minutes ago she got so frustrated that tears were growing in her eyes, this was not like her at all.
Five minutes to go and still nothing to wear, Melaine yanked the first dress that she could find out of her closet. Although her body was telling her to eat, Melaine just ignored it, ever since a child she had been like this. At only the age of 12 she was diagnosed with a high eating disorder, her family always tried their best to keep her healthy but she always found a way to not eat.
A sense of urgency struck Melamine, smothering her face with some make up that she managed to unscramble from what used to be her flat, but now somewhat like a maze.
With that done she got into gear and flurished down the stairs, Melaines mind was racing, if only she had set her alarm the night before none of these events would of taken place. She blames her so called "friends". They dragged her out, her mind was set to have a night in, think over the events for the next day, but instead she was tempted but what her friends offered her, ever since her mum died this was her only true friend. This was the only friend that was loyal, this was the only friend that was there when Melanie needed her friend the most, her friend was heroin.
Rushing into the steers of Colorado she was dazzled. Her mind was a powerhouse, running at the speed of light, but at the same time it was also like a grasshopper jumping from thought to thought simultaneously.
Yet again like majority of mornings, she had not touched an open ounce of food, It is wasn't like Melanie could not afford food, in her mum's will she had left her a great deal of money, over half of this was spent on her friend, the rest she swore to herself she would put to good use.
She was sweating, this was not like her, Mel liked to embrace her stereotype, nine times out of ten she would wear a dress, you would never catch her wearing any sorts of jeans or clothes a like. Make up was also essential, and heels too- and so being a woman, it would be certainly unnatraul to produce such a ghastly body fluid such as sweat.
