Bottled Beauty

Bottled Beauty Ch. 3

NOTE: I DO NOT OWN THIS STORY. This is written by an amazing writer named Bianca. I am just posting it to share. The only thing I do own is the cover art.

I was in an oasis. The hot sun beat down from the sky, but I could barely feel its harsh rays. I was too entranced by the beautiful pond in front of me and the trees and green leafy plants. But the most prominent thing was the smell. A sweet smell, like flowers and rain and light wafted through the air, so beautiful as it cocooned my body in a wonderful fragrance...

     BRRRRIIIING!

     My alarm clock jarred me to life. I immediately sat up in bed, like the doll inside of a jack-in-the-box. My ears were pounding as blood flooded to my head.

     I glanced at the clock. 7:54. I had let my alarm ring for almost a half hour and hadn’t heard it. I was going to be late for school.

     I jumped out of bed and darted out of my room. The purple glass perfume bottle on my dresser glinted as I ran past, but I was too rushed to give it any thought.

     ***

     I left my house at 8:03, a piece of raw toast in hand. I’d thrown on the first articles of clothing I had seen, brushed my teeth, and ran out the door in a pair of my worn out sandals. I hated being late for school.

     “Whoa Celia, trying out for a marathon?”

     I turned my head and spotted Neil, a tall and tough boy, jogging to catch up with me. He was my neighbor, and a pretty nice guy. We hung out with the same people in school and he was always cracking jokes.

     “We’re gonna be late for class,” I explained, slowing down only slightly so he could join me.

     “I’m never late,” Neil said indignantly as he drew nearer, his teeth as white as the blazing sun overhead. But when he finally caught up with me, his smile faltered and his eyes widened. “Celia, did you do something different today with... everything?”

     I felt my skin rouge. I hadn’t even looked in the mirror before I ran out the door. “I just threw on clothes,” I said, raking my fingers through my dark hair self-consciously. “Do I look that bad?”

     “No no no!” Neil said, shaking his head so quickly that I thought his skull might detach. “You look really good today.”

     “Nice try,” I said, shaking my head. School today was going to be embarrassing, I just knew it.

     “No!” he protested again, his eyes wide. “Celia, really you look good!”

     I shot him a look. Sometimes his jokes got old really fast. But I was too tired to press it. “Thank you, Neil,” I said, making no attempt to hide my sarcasm.

     He seemed too caught up in staring at me to make a retort. I groaned and turned away. He didn’t attempt conversation; he seemed lost in his own strange daze. And I was all too happy for the silence.

     We reached school in a few minutes, the sand yellow building landscaped by pretty green plants and small ponds that made it look like an oasis. I reached for the front door and slipped inside just as the bell rang signaling first period.

     “Bye, Neil!” I said with a wave to the boy behind me, slipping off to class before he could make another witty retort about my disheveled appearance.

     “Good morning, good morning!” Mr. Gregor greeted as I hastily took my seat in his classroom. The middle-aged man adjusted his tiny spectacles and reached for a stack of papers on his desk. “Let’s not delay the torture. Make sure everything is away except a paper and a pen. We’re going to have a pop history quiz!”