Song of the Firebird

Two

Her world was spinning. The first thing she could remember was how those silk sheets felt on her rough skin. Her entire body felt sore. She was not ready to move an inch that moment if she were given visas to one hundred countries free of charge. She slowly opened her eyes, treating them to a meadow, drawn on her pastel-coloured wall. 

Working as the head pastry chef in one of the highly recommended, self owned cafés in the city did a number on her body. Fun fact, she doesn't take caffeine, dairy, non-dairy, tea or any beverages. She works on water and lemon-honey-ginger concoction. Sometimes that cucumber-lemon-mint water. She believed in healthy drinking habits that gave her toes, a runner's strength. She worked for the café five days a week and worked for herself during the weekends. Only one off day for a month.

Her phone rang.

'Hey. What's up there?', she asked. After a pause, she continued, 'So, you guys want to go until there? I am not sure I can make it in the next hour. I just woke up.'

Whoever made that call just wanted to drown her in a dismay.

'How about the next weekend? The café will be closed for three full days. Moreover, we get a day extra to ourselves', she said. She was positive she heard a snort and a smirk from that conference call. 'Then you guys, pack your gear and go ahead. I am so beat up that I cannot move an inch from this bed of mine!'

She had this irresistible urge to cut the call. Sometimes, to throw the phone into the wall. Phew! She worked shifts just to get this phone and for a moment that story of how she landed with this super-duper device played in her mind like a movie.

'See you guys soon. Now, I have plans with my bed. Wish me a great night!', she chirped and cut the call. Even the windows weren't on her side. The 10am sunlight was smiling brightly on her face, riling her up for more. Closing the curtains, she slumped back into her bed, ready for another round of warmth, that she could only get access to, during her day off.

Several moments later, she could feel a rustling movement in her closet. Her instincts were up before her. Grabbing the nearest hardcover book, she went in for the kill.

There they were. Her two best friends, Kiara and Ivy, were packing her necessities for a two-day trip that they had planned at the eleventh hour. She hit her forehead with the book, instead.

'Now, keep the bag on the floor and leave. I cannot take any more drama', she sighed.

Kiara, born and raised in the city, now clutching her hiking boots in one hand and a jacket in the other, took a long look at her dishevelled friend near the door. She dropped the boots and the jacket on the floor and took slow strides toward her friend.

''Tasha, baby, you need a shower ASAP and, Ivy and I will take care of the rest', she said with a tone that her mother often uses with a signature hands-on-hips look, tilting her head. She might be mocking her Auntie Dia but that didn't seem to help change her decision about the trip.

Ivy, the petite woman among the trio, piped up showcasing her new Afro look, continued, 'For one time, she's right. Trust me, you will love this place and suggest it for the rest of the weekends this month. A perfect getaway for all of us!'.

Natasha knew Ivy will not take a "NO" for an answer and her convincing strategies were up to the par. Most of the time, her suggestions bring out the best. This time, it was making Natasha, in her sleep-deprived state, to think about the aftermath and a contingency plan.

Natasha looked at her girlfriends for a moment. Her mind couldn't think of a plan all of a sudden and when she opened her mouth, she felt something nauseating. When her lips parted again, she began puking, non-stop, for a full minute. She wished for it to stop and seconds later, her system began releasing all her pent up vomit. Her pale skin and exhausted eyes plead for help. For a brief moment, her friends were rooted to their place. Clearing her throat, Ivy was the first to break off from her stance. 'Sweetie, are you alright? Can I get you something?', she asked.