Prejudice

III

The floor wasn't a very good decision. Waking up wrapped in a sleeping bag wasn't her finest moment. Before opening her eyes, Irene reached up to massage her sore neck. She didn't have a pillow last night. She groaned and stretched, extending her arms as far as they would go. Then she let them stay on the ground, opting to slide them back towards her body. In the process, her skin came in contact with something wet and slimy.

Irene's eyes shot open as she frantically looked towards the unidentified liquid. It was clear, but it didn't ease her worries at all. Also, there was a peculiar smell in the room now. Cautiously, she looked in the other direction and came face to face with a giant, black head. Staring directly into the eyes of the Doberman kind of scared the living daylights out of her. She reacted how anyone would to being scared.

A bloodcurdling scream roused Lisa from her sleep. The doe-eyed girl startled and woke up immediately. The scream was followed by excited barking. It didn't take long for the sleepy girl to put the pieces together. It was Irene again.

"God, could you not scream like you're being murdered first thing in the morning?" Lisa snapped bitterly as she wiped at her eyes and glowered at the girl now trembling warily in the corner. Love dopily bounded over to her bedside and plopped his head on Lisa's comforter. She smiled at the dog and lovingly ruffled his fur.

"Why is there a horse in your room?!" Irene screeched in outrage, cowering behind her flimsy sleeping bag.

"He's not a fucking horse," Lisa scoffed and scratched behind the giant dog's ears. "His name is Love. He's a dog, Irene."

"No, that is a fucking woolly mammoth," Irene commented snidely once she regained her bearings. Okay. This beast wasn't a threat. With that refreshing knowledge, Irene straightened up a little and dropped the sleeping bag to gather around her body.

"He's a Doberman. I take it that you don't like dogs very much?" Lisa kinked an eyebrow and babbled incoherently at the animal.

"I love dogs. I have one. But not... Whatever that is," Irene grimaced at Lisa's big dog and subtly kept her distance.

"What kind of dog do you have?" Lisa questioned in the midst of coddling Love.

"He's a Maltese dog," Irene said in a very refined manner, but it crumbled when Lisa burst into laughter.

"Of course it's a fucking Maltese. I should've known it'd be something typical. I was thinking Chihuahua or like a Pomeranian or something," Lisa laughed and further belittled Irene.

"It's not typical... He's actually a very special mixed breed of-" Irene began to inform her but was cut short.

"Yeah, right. You have some little purse rat that you probably carry around everywhere in some kind of ridiculous little tote, right?" Lisa assumed and didn't bother to hide her contempt towards the girl now trying to recompose herself.

"No," Irene declined shortly, pursing her lips in offense. "He's a dog, just like anyone else's. He doesn't get any special treatment..."

"Sure," Lisa laughed incredulously and diverted her attention back to Love.

"You sound like you've watched one too many bad lifetime films," Irene crossed her arms and challenged Lisa's smug stare.

"You sound just like the way they portray people like you, so where is the lie?" Lisa retorted. This was all amusing to her.

"Can you stop acting like you know me?" Irene asked resentfully, fed up with Lisa's stupid assumptions and unnecessary judgements.

"I'm not acting like anything," Lisa shrugged, still wearing that smirk that made Irene want to slap it off.