bad decisions

Chapter 5: Personal Space... Or Not

Saturn

The next morning, I wake up before the sun has risen with my hand throbbing and my stomach turning. I practically ran out of my room to go make breakfast while I called Dessi. I needed to tell her about the contract and let her know I'll do her managerial work if she can take my bar shifts for the foreseeable future. I have toast in the toaster and eggs on the stove when I run back into my room to change my clothes into a random hoodie and sweats.

I grab my cell phone off the nightstand and hurry back into the kitchen so I wouldn't burn my eggs. I dialed her number after I stirred the eggs and waited for her to answer. She did on the second ring.

"Saturn, this better be good with you calling me three hours after I went to bed," she answered groggily.

"Hello to you too, Des," I responded dryly. She moaned in response.

"I need you to take my shifts for the next couple of weeks. At least for one week," I said, getting to the point.

She groaned again and I laughed, "I'll do all of the manager's work from home."

She was quiet for a moment before she spoke, "Fine," and then she hung up.

I laughed as I plated my eggs and pulled out the butter for my toast. I was slowly munching on my eggs as I waited for the coffee to brew.

I had a mug and finished all of my food in record time before taking ibuprofen and sitting down to get a good look at my hand. It was a little swollen and very bruised. But, I knew I could still dance today, so it wasn't an issue.

After I finished my food, I scrolled through instagram before taking a quick picture of the sun coming up from my balcony and making a post with my hiatus from the bar. After I had posted that for some of the regulars who came to chat me up, I sighed and went back into the kitchen. I rinsed my dishes and threw them into the dishwasher and started it before heading back to my bedroom.

I stood in front of my closet for a while, deciding what to wear for the day, when I decided I wasn't going to dance and I wanted to dress nicely to try and get out of the house. Looking at my phone, the clock said it was 7:30AM. The sun was going to be coming up at any minute. I quickly skimmed through and found a dress I hadn't worn in a while. I smiled at the sight of it. It always made me feel good. The thick black straps tie behind my neck and the neckline was conservative enough to be comfortable, but showed enough that I didn't feel like it was a nun. The midriff was lace the entire way around and the skirt is white with the same lace over it.

Pulling it off the hanger and draping it over my arm, I went over to my dresser and grabbed a pair of underwear and a pair of my workout shorts. I took my clothes into the bathroom and set them on the counter before tying up my hair. Running instead of going and starting my shower, I walked over to the tub and turned on the faucet. Letting the tub fill up, I pulled a bag of bath salts out of the cabinet under my sink.

Once the tub was filled to my content, I turned the faucet off and dumped some salts into the water. I put the bag back before stripping out of my clothes and getting in. I rested my head on the edge and closed my eyes, letting the hot water soothe my muscles. I had been torturing myself the past week and my body was suffering.

After sitting for an hour or so, I climbed out of the cooling water before drying off. With my towel wrapped around me, I stepped up to my vanity and looked in the mirror. Looking at the woman in the mirror, at the tattoos low on her chest, around her navel and hips, the scars on her ribs, chest and legs; it's plain to see that she is not the same girl from Chester. The empty teen from Chester is even yet not the same little girl from Seattle.