Rowan hops down the stairs one by one. The atmosphere of the kitchen is warm and comforting. The smell of the Cinnamon toaster strudels hops right out of the toaster and makes its way right over to Rowan's nose. Rowan jumps off the step dramatically and her backpack slams against her back. She smiles and looks around to see if anyone was watching. Rowan heads to the kitchen to claim her prized possession. Her mother comes around the corner with a pair of socks and a phone charging wire. She stops in her tracks and turns to her groggy, yet smiley daughter.
"Hey! Good morning, I was wondering if you were going to get up ever." Her mom smiles even more. Rowan smiles back to her and turns around. She looks behind. Having expected her mom to have walked away by now, she moves stuff quite violently and quickly from one side to another on the messy counter tops. She turns around behind her to the refrigerator. She leans down slowly and grunts as she pulls out the freezer door. She rummages through the top rack and the box that holds the flakey, warm, gooey, goodness. Rowan turns around frustrated and gets almost knocked off her feet.
"The icing packets are sitting next to your plate on the kitchen table." Rowan's mom looks at her daughter worriedly. Rowan turns to her mom and her eyes go wider then normal. Rowan and her mom sit there staring at each other for a good few minutes in silence. Rowan sends a "Okay-Thanks-for-helping-now-let-me-eat" smile over to her mom across the kitchen. Rowan turns around and pulls out a seat. She lays her foot down and sits on her heel.
"God. You are so strange. I almost want to witness what you're like at school." She takes the largest bite she can manage. Rowan lets the cinnamon Toaster Strudel soul spill into her mouth. The warm cinnamon flavor, the flakey, warm crust and the cold melted icing all swirl and celebrate in her mouth. Rowan slowly starts to resemble a cow since the amount of food in her mouth. She finally gets the innocent Toaster Strudel down. Rowan picks up her slippery tall glass of cold milk. She chugs almost three fourths of it. She slams it down on the red crocheted table mat furiously.
"I AM THE MERCILESS STRUDEL SLAYER. YOU SHALL FEAR MY RATH. I AM, AND ALWAYS WILL THIRST FOR THE BLOOD OF MY ENEMYS." Rowan's fists slam down on the poor blameless brown wood table. She breathes heavily in threw her nose and out her mouth.
"Rowan. Everything you just talked to in the past ten minutes has been an inanimate object. Do we need to-"
Rowan turns around in the blink of an eye and sees her mother standing in the kitchen door way. Her mother starts but Rowan knows exactly where the conversation is headed.
"This will not be talked about mother." Rowan's mother raises her eyebrow up while sort of chuckling quietly.
"Rowan, but there's so much to talk about hunny." Her mom says jokingly. Her mom leans her shoulder against the door way that separates the dining room and the kitchen. Rowan pushes her chair out from the large family table and throws her backpack off her chair and onto her shoulders swiftly. She mumbles something quietly as she walks past her mom and threw the large door way.
"I'll be in the car." Rowan shouts as loud and with the as most anger as she could muster in five desperate words. Rowan slips on white Vans. She readjusts her backpack and reaches for the front door handle.
