Room On Fire

Room On Fire Chapter 9

Eden

    Abby left me in the tiny bathroom alone with my new soap, so I decided it would be a nice time to run the bath. The knob was jammed, but eventually I got the hot water running. As the tub filled up, I went back out into the room and dragged my suitcase onto the one double bed. I scoured for new underwear and a baggy band tee-shirt and set them aside. Abigail was sitting on the small window sill smoking a cigarette, so I decided it would be best not to bother her. I grabbed my purse from the floor beside the bolted door on my way back.

   The bath was halfway full and I stripped down and carefully lowered myself in. The water was steaming as it crept higher and higher on my bare skin. I un-tucked my package of cigarettes from my purse and lit up. A steady stream of smoke escaped my lips along with a content sigh.

   I was on my way to being completely free form everyone and everything in my old life. It was time to start brand new. No Christofer, no father, no terrible school, just me and Abby in a white picket home.

   I took another drag and slipped beneath the calm surface of the water, closing my eyes and gripping the edge of the tub for support. I held myself there in the silence until I couldn’t hold my breath for another second. After I surfaced I head Abby mumble something incomprehensible through the door, and then the bolt unlocked and the door closed.

   I pulled my knees to my chest and flicked the ashes into the water. The charred flakes drifted deeper and deeper until they sat on the white porcelain floor. I chewed my lip, rubbing the black spots with my toes until they smeared across the bottom and eventually disappeared.

   “Bucket of water for every match she struck for me; but maybe this is meant to be. Lady, this is meant to be.” I sung quietly to myself, sinking under once again, tousling my hair until it was soaked through. I emptied one small bottle of the lavender soap and ran it through my short hair before going under again to rinse it out.

   I leaned over the edge of the tub, tossed the cigarette in the toilet, and reached for the small bag of toiletries Abby, thankfully, brought along. Two disposable, blue razors were tucked in a clear pocket so I took one. I lathered the soap between my palms and ran them along the length of my legs, then bringing the razor along until the line of bubbles was gone.

   After I finished shaving for the first time in days, I carefully stepped out of my bath and pulled the plug in the drain. I stood before the mirror and stared at myself. My ash-white hair was plastered to my cheeks, my hazel eyes an irritated red, and my pale skin looked almost transparent.

   “Staring in the mirror without a stitch on; hands tied around her hips and wondering who is staring back at me?” I whispered. Reciting lines from another song I loved: Like I Do.

   I pulled a brush through my hair without hitting a tangle, and scrubbed the black make-up that was trailing down from my eyes. I un-rolled a towel from the counter and wrapped it securely around my chest. The room was cold and clear compared to the foggy and warm bathroom. Abby left everything untouched except for the heavy curtains, which were pulled back and held with a wooden chair.

   I pulled on the underwear I set out before the bath along with my large Envy on the Coast tee shirt. The hem of the shirt stopped just above my knees and I had cut the sleeves shorter months earlier, so a few black strings tickled down my arms.

   I sunk down into the bed and pulled the covers up to my waist, wiggling my toes against the scratchy sheets. The pillows behind me that seemed nice and fluffy before were actually stiff and lumpy, the lavender comforter on top had holes on the underside of it and the bed frame had scratches in a variety of places.