My Paradise

My Paradise-- part eight

My Paradise-Part Eight

Pop. Fizzle. The bacon is cooking down.

Snore.-You would think that eight hours of sleep would wake someone up. The mysterious stranger is still sleeping, so apparently this doesn't apply to everyone.

*Sigh* When is this dude going to wake up?!

MMMMMmmmmm. A fajita breakfast smells amazing.

"What is that horrible smell?!" The mysterious stranger cries out.

Oh he did not! I've put up with Mr. Snore-a lot-snoozer, for eight hours and he can't stand my fajita smell?! So now what is he doing? Walking around my cottage laughing, pointing at my collectibles and mocking them...Okay MR. Dummy!!

"Glad to see that Prince Snore has fin-ALLY woke up! How did it feel to be a Prince for once?" My voice is soaking in sarcasm, each word dripping in saucy attitude. The Prince snore-a lot's face is apparently in shock.

" Well Miss Rude-mouth, why are you in such a sour mood? Most ladies in this region would love to have my prescience in their house." He spoke with such arrogance, it made me sick.

There was a long moment of silence, before the next song blares through my stereo. Apparently our taste in music differs. For Mr. I-think-I'm-the-hottest-person-living, face is in horror. Twisted about and hanging, with his mouth open, Mr. mock-my-stuff, looks really stupid. This causes all of my anger to flee, only to be replaced by pure ridicule, causing me to laugh into hysterics. Making Mr. I-don't-like-Nickelback, angry.

"What is this terrible, disastrous sound?! AND what ARE you LAUGHING AT?!!"

"I'm laughing at YOU!", I somehow giggle out. He doesn't reply. Now he's really angry with me. Haha-What a LOSER! My breakfast fajitas are almost done. YUM!

"You can set the table if you are eating.", I tell the mysterious stranger. Again his face his appalled. Who is this guy? Better yet, WHAT is with his attitude?!

"Ma'm I do not set tables."

"Then you apparently do not eat.", I reply. Aw, now he' sad, maybe if he would do something, besides stand there I would feel bad.

SQUEAAKK! Now the mysterious stranger is standing in front of my bookshelf. He stands similar to the guard but yet differently. The way he stands reminds me of a powerful leader. His shoulders are squared, his hands are neatly folded behind his back, his feet are placed for good balance and long standing.

Now my eyes drop focus off of the mysterious stranger, and look deeply upon my fajita feast. In the process of moving the food from the counter-top to the table,I guess Mr. I-don't-set-tables, got hungry.

"Miss, may I join you? I am awfully hungry. I will even set the table." Keeping my laughter inside, I reply, "Plates are in the cupboard to the right, on the second shelf." He is at least able to follow instructions. After getting the plates, I instruct him to get the silverware-he does so.

We eat in silence, for a few a few seconds, until a new song comes blaring through my stereo. This time it is Paramore. I guess either the stranger has gotten used to my taste, or has heard Paramore before, because his expression does not change. It stays the tough-it-out look. After our breakfast, the mysterious stranger "commands" me not to clean-up. He is going to clean-up. What a sight this will be! With this sarcastic remark, jumbling around in my head, I decide to watch him "clean-up." For being so stuck on himself, he makes for a good cleaning maid. This scene soon grows old, and I realize that I am still wearing yesterday's, now wrinkled, outfit.

So while Mr. Maid is distracted with dirty dishes, I scurry off, silently down my hall. I shut my door with ninja ability. I open my door to my armoire, only to find barley anything in it. Ugh. With all the visitors, I haven't had time to do laundry, leaving me with only a pair of clean jeans and a clean shirt to wear. After changing, I run a brush through my hair and tie it up into a half bun, half ponytail look.

When I am about to open my bedroom door, I hear voices seeping in through the other side. I knew it couldn't be my stereo because I had turned that off. Plus the voices are traveling down the hallway, whispering from the living rooom. I check the clock. It reads 1:30 pm. So it is the guard and the mysterious stranger...Hmmm... a little eavesdropping never hurt anyone.

"Sir, I have come here everyday for the past week. It can not be Miss.", studders the guard.

"Well squire, who else can it be? We have tried every other house! I WANT MY MYSTERY GIRL!", scream whispers the mysterious stranger. Wow. Somebody is a brat. Wait. Sir? And the stranger had called the guard "squire"...Who had I danced with? What had I danced with?!

'Not so loud sir. She might her you.", the guard warns. Haha-to LATE!

"Your right. Continue with the visits here. Come here everyday, get to know the Miss of this household. Tell me any news you find, and everything she says. Word for word. Dimiss.", commands the stranger. With this, the guard clinks out and I begin to pace my bedroom.

My head is filled with questions! What is happening? Why am I being spied upon?! What or who is the Mr. Mysterious Bratty Stranger? Sigh. Time for a walk. Ow! Of course me being a klutz, I run into my door, while trying to open it.

"It is time for you to you leave."

"Why Miss?"

"I have somewhere to be." I reply with a blank expression fillling my face, my tone is serious.

"Maybe some other time then." With this the mysterious stranger departs.

Finally pure, simple, clean, and tranquil silence.