Always Repeating...

Ch. 5

*Stella's POV*

Oh my sweet Jesus! I said to myself as I closed the door. John was younger I could tell but I was only 22 and he was probably 20, just starting his life. I wish I hadn't rambled on about stupid crap and stuff he didn't  care about.

        The phone rang and I answered. "Hello, Ms. Bornum, who is this?"

        "Still the same Stell!" Micheal said laughing at me. It was true not one bit has changed, and I kind of didn't care.

        I blushed and smiled and said, "Hi... Micheal! What do you need?" "I need to see your face, what are you up to?" "Welll... I was trying to go to bed, but apparently you don't want me to," I told him.

"Now can you leave me to it? I'm very tired," I said while yawning. "Fine, but hey meet me at Laura's Diner alright," he said convincingly. I sighed which was a version of yes and I hung up the phone. Besides I was too worried about my new 'friend' John.

Morning rolled around and I couldn't get out of bed for the life of me. I just didn't have any energy and I had kind of a fever. It was probably from me being in the snow! Which was a dumb decision, but it was worth it. When I got halfway up I could see my precious little cat, still sleeping. Wishing I was Berkeley I walked to the bathroom and rubbed my eyes. My floppy mess of a bun was wobbling on my head in a big rats nest.

I opened my eyes fully and-
AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! OH....MY.....GOD!!!
AHHHHHHHHH!!!AHHHH!!!!!

The entire half of my face was all red, I had broken out in hives. It was an allergic reaction to something! How could of this happened, dear lord!!!
I looked in the mirror and just stared completely at myself in awe. It was like someone had rubbed poison ivy all over my face. I almost wanted to cry but didn't.

        Opening the all my drawers I tried to look for some type of cream or ointment, but couldn't find anything. There was hairspray in the cabinets along with combs and brushes, along with my Zanex. Occasionally I would get anxiety attacks but they were very rare. In the drawers there was hair ties, my old rusted hair straightener, and a billion other stupid things. At the back of one of the drawers was this rash and pimple cream.

        So I quickly rubbed it all over my face hoping it would do the trick. I looked in the mirror a second time and just looked at myself.

        Walking back into my bedroom I tried not worry about it, so I put on my outfit for the day. I slipped on my brown pencil skirt, and my black arm length sweater. I pulled my hair out of its knot and went back into the bathroom to comb it out. The brush was covered in my old hair, when I had died it blonde, but it didn't matter to me.

        Looking back up in the mirror it had gotten worse. I looked like a hideous evil witch, who looked like potions exploded in her face. I stomped on the floor and pouted.

        There has to be a way to fix this and I had to go to work one way or another. My idea was to wear scarf around my head and lower face 60s style!