Decisions

Faith

She awoke from a strange dream as the beads of sweat dripped off her forehead. The room felt oddly cooler than normal, and there was no real explanation for what had happened that night. It was one of those dreams that you wake up from and immediately forget the events. A quick glance at the clock revealed the time to be three in the morning. Work was only hours away, and she knew that she was being taunted in one of the worst ways.

Sleep escaped her in every way. Climbing out of bed with an audible grunt, she made her way out of the room. Her manauvers about the apartment were tactical but yet mythodical. An ugly torquiose armchair sat right in the middle of the living room, which lacked color more than a rundown K-Mart on the bad side of town. Her hand reached out to the chair and slowly grazed the back. It was a movement she did quite often for no perticular reason.

Her feet hit the floor hard with each step. The echo reached all throughout the apartment which was more empty than her thoughts at the moment. Her blank stare grew to become a haunting site that stayed fixated on the bookshelf located in a quaint little corner of the room.

Suddenly she fell to the ground with a loud thump. The sound was vast and caused her to jolt up. She glanced a the clock over the television and had a realization of stress. It was six in the morning. Looking around she saw that the sun had risen and she hadn't seen it happen in the slightest. She decided to ready herself for work, and within all the confusion she did not notice that she stared off into space for a little over two hours.

Her morning routine was in full swing before a look in the mirror stopped her dead in her tracks. She had seen herself many times, but for some reason her gaze had never demenanded her attention as much as right then. The mirror was located in the bathroom, so it had these individual toothpaste splotches that were almost too distracting. Looking past all of those stains revealed a gorgeous face. Cheekbones that gave support but didn't show too much. A nose that is the proper size and way for it to be cute. Assuming noses can be cute, that is. Hair that falls down on both sides like some kind of siren's illusion. It was a lighter brown that was void of almost all split ends. The thing that really topped off this kind of beauty are a set of beautiful blue eyes gleaming like the ocean on a fresh sunrise. If one were to look behind the beauty, they may see a glimpse of her pale skin, or tired look, or maybe even a look of someone lonely.

Her outfit was a hodge podge of layers that somehow all came together. The skirt she wore had diagonal green, black, and white stripes. To complete the lower body she wore black tights and a matching green pair of Bobs. Her shirt was white, but she wore a black decorative jacket. The outfit was breezy but still managed to keep a close relationship to attractive. This kind of look probably described her best, but it could never really show what she felt inside.

Cars were somewhat unecessary in her view, especially with her work only being five blocks and a trip across the street. Naturally this made her an avid walker. WAlking always seems to be an activity full of wonder. You're free to be in your own world, but still see those in this one. People watching kept her preoccupied for most of the short journey. A walk out her apartment building's red door allowed a stiff breeze to hit her. It was the beginning of fall, and Mother Nature really wanted everyone to know. Her steps were the same every morning and so were the people. A stout man sitting at a bench smoked a cigarette without fail every time he passed. His head was balding, and although he seemed nice, the act of smoking always made her weary of him. As she walked past, she watched the ashes fall from his cigarette to the ground. The drop was in slow motion for her, and she could still see the remaining ember glow from the ash on the concrete. Looking up from the man's afliction showed a sidewalk lined with trees full of brown, red, and yellow leaves. It was a breath taking sight most downtowns held. Next on the list of people was one Joanne Baxter. She was a sweet elderly women who always sat out on her balcony. People around town refered to her as the pigeon lady, and if you were lucky enough, you could see way. When Mrs. Baxter brings out bread for the birds, all the pigeons come flocking her way almost imediately. The young women had never seen this and hoped to never have to.