A Rose to Change a Life

Chapter 5

My social life

The rest of the day went rather slow, Elise and I watched a movie – no horror movie this time – talked about our plans for tomorrow, which turned out to be none because in her opinion, I should get a social life. Figures. As if my books weren't social enough! They would talk to me (sort of), feel me (not really) and understand me (if they had ears), oh crap, what was I thinking. My social life was nonexistent. She suggested I bake something for tomorrow, take a beauty procedure and then get to my 'date' or whatever it is. It was a date, wasn't it? Anyway, except for the beauty procedure part, it sounded good, thankfully we went shopping yesterday, so I could  enjoy my cookieeuphoria. Who needed a beauty procedure anyway? If he didn't like me the way I was, then he can easily leave me alone. Why should I change myself for him or anybody for that matter? I never did quite understand why girls would get breast implants, liposuction or botox lips, I'd laugh if they would explode someday, I know that was not a nice thought to have because it would surely hurt, but then again, it might teach them a lesson to accept their bodies just the way they are. Sue me.

After our movie, I excused myself and went into my room, regardless of the late hour, I couldn't sleep, so I pulled my notebook out and decided to read a bit. My parents always supported my reading habbit, which turned out to be addictive the older I got. Now I couldn't spend a day without reading, it calmed my mind as well as my soul. 

Where other people might get drunk to erase their bad thoughts, I preferred the more civilized methode. I hoped that my current book would get my mind of him, letting me fall asleep. Thankfully after many many many pages, my eyes drifted shut.

Cookiephoria

"Come here, pretty one. You do not have to be afraid of me." I huddled into a corner, making myself as small as humanly possible. I didn't want him to touch me, it digusted me, but he wouldn't stop. His bulky frame came into my line of vision, illuminated by a neon lamp, the only light in this cubicle room. No windows. No air condition. Only a timber matt, drawn into the corner farthest away from the door. "You do not want to disappoint me. What would your parents say? I bet they are not even searching for you, no one knows you are here." A whimper escaped my mouth, I wanted to be strong, but my small body could only endure as much. His words scared me because I knew what would follow, my fingers were balled into fists, ready to swing at his nose, his crotch, his face, whatever I may find. A hand reached out......" 
I leaped out of my bed, crouching in a fighters stance, even if I was half-asleep. Sweat trickled down my neck, pooling between my breasts and shoulder blades. Another PJ soaked. My new skill. I cursed, trying to relax my muscles, and took a look at the clock. 5:30am. Are. You. Kidding. Me. Why did I have a nightmare?  Ugh. No way, will that one destroy my day. I stripped out of my PJ's, threw them into a pile and stepped under the shower. I hoped Elise wouldn't be woken by it. There was no use going to sleep again, my body was coiled tight, so I did the only thing I could think of: I threw my cookieeuphoria into gear.

If my friend wouldn't wake from the noise, she'd get up at 6 anyway. Old woman and their sleeping habits, sigh. If she would ever sleep in, she must have had seven shots of whisky, two bottles of whine and three beers, and even then her sleep wouldn't last long, the only thing that might happen is that she'd burp in her sleep. Thankfully she wasn't a drinker, it might be very weird to hear her burping the alphabet during her shut-eye time.

I strode into the kitchen, put a pot of coffee on the stove, and pulled open the fridge. I asked my tummy what it would like to eat, it simply grumbled, good, cheese and bread it was then. While I prepared my breakfast – yes I was one of those girls who did eat breakfast – I already caught myself thinking about today's afternoon – stop it I said to myself and bitchslapped myself. Sit. Eat. Stop thinking. 

After I was finished, I began to rummage through the cabinets. It was a good thing that I knew my cookie recipe by heart, otherwise my stop-thinking-command would be hard to accomplish. I measured flour and sugar, cut the chocolate, mixed in the eggs, and stirred the dough. It was a necessity to try the dough. I loved rare dough, besides if you didn't try it, how would you know if it was good? See. My point exactly. I put the dough on the baking sheet, putting it into the oven. Staring at cookies until they are finished wasn't my idea of fun, so I did another cake, shoving it in when the others were out – constantly dancing to the radio in my mid- thigh long housedress – That wasn't enough, I was still restless, so I made it my mission to clean the flat. Starting at the kitchen, I scrubbed and washed and scrubbed again, only to be stopped by a veeeeery bugged sounding Elise. 

"ELVA Maypole! What are you doing!?" She strode into the kitchen, her sleeping gown with tiny ducks on them rumpled and her brown chin length hair sticking up at all ends. If it weren't for her tirade, I might have found it funny.

"I said and ordered you to relax, I even allowed you to bake cookies, but cleaning was not included!"
Every other woman would have been glad to leave the dishes out in the open, but yeah – if you haven't noticed by now, I was not like the others. I had the common sense to be ashamed, I broke my promise. Again. I sighed deeply.

"I'm already going, Elise. I'm sorry." I hugged her and went into my room, leaving delicious smelling cookies in the waking.