Waiting on the Sun
Breakfast Bacon
Nova woke sweaty and panting, with her sheets ruffled from thrashing throughout the night. Images still flickered in her mind--violent and uncaring--of the nightmare she had just been forced through.
A woman had her slimy hands wrung around my neck. I could feel the air rushing from my lungs and collapsing into the cold around me. Just as my palms and feet started to sweat, dots of bitter light flooded my vision. It was like falling from a tree and having the wind knocked out of me. She stared into my pleading eyes, and laughed as they started to bug out. I could feel my heart swelling. My veins felt like they were about to pop, like a fattened waterballoon. Just as the dots of black began to overtake me, she let go. She stripped me of my clothes and set me out in the biting cold of winter. Snow flailed endlessly around my naked body, and I shivered with panic. Just after my legs turned blue, she yanked my inside by a handful of hair, covered my back with a thin layer of grease, and set me atop the burning stove. I began to shriek as the blue-orange flames licked my slickened body, heaved when my flesh popped and sizzled like breakfast bacon, and choked out suffocated sobs as my hair burst into flames.
"God," Nova muttered to herself as she dragged herself out of bed.
She turned to her full legnth mirror and rotated her body from side to side. She examined her golden hair, her pale skin, her rosy lips, the beauty mark that so resembled Marilyn Monroe's. Her thin hips were bony, her stomach flat, her breasts of average size, and her thighs slightly too pudgy for her frame. Freckles kissed the tops of her shoulders, marking her otherwise flawless skin. Well, flawless from first look.
Nova lifted the back of her shirt and turned so she could see her backside in the mirror. There it was--that ugly scar. She ran her cold fingers across the warm, scarlet skin and scowled. Well, at least her hair had grown back; at least there was one thing she could be thankful for.
She checked the clcck on her nightstand, it read 6:15 AM. She grabbed a basic black tank-top from her closet, along with her favorite pair of jeans and her black Chucks. After grabbing out a pair of socks and panties from her "intimate" drawer, she laid her clothes out and headed into the shower.
After washing, shaving, and standing in the scorching fall of rain that flowed from the shower head, she hurried out of her personal bathroom, dressed, and headed down for breakfast.
She followed the scent of blueberry pancakes into the kitchen.
Into the den of the women with the slimy hands; the one that had burned her in her dream...the one that had left her scarred.
"Morning, Mom."
A woman had her slimy hands wrung around my neck. I could feel the air rushing from my lungs and collapsing into the cold around me. Just as my palms and feet started to sweat, dots of bitter light flooded my vision. It was like falling from a tree and having the wind knocked out of me. She stared into my pleading eyes, and laughed as they started to bug out. I could feel my heart swelling. My veins felt like they were about to pop, like a fattened waterballoon. Just as the dots of black began to overtake me, she let go. She stripped me of my clothes and set me out in the biting cold of winter. Snow flailed endlessly around my naked body, and I shivered with panic. Just after my legs turned blue, she yanked my inside by a handful of hair, covered my back with a thin layer of grease, and set me atop the burning stove. I began to shriek as the blue-orange flames licked my slickened body, heaved when my flesh popped and sizzled like breakfast bacon, and choked out suffocated sobs as my hair burst into flames.
"God," Nova muttered to herself as she dragged herself out of bed.
She turned to her full legnth mirror and rotated her body from side to side. She examined her golden hair, her pale skin, her rosy lips, the beauty mark that so resembled Marilyn Monroe's. Her thin hips were bony, her stomach flat, her breasts of average size, and her thighs slightly too pudgy for her frame. Freckles kissed the tops of her shoulders, marking her otherwise flawless skin. Well, flawless from first look.
Nova lifted the back of her shirt and turned so she could see her backside in the mirror. There it was--that ugly scar. She ran her cold fingers across the warm, scarlet skin and scowled. Well, at least her hair had grown back; at least there was one thing she could be thankful for.
She checked the clcck on her nightstand, it read 6:15 AM. She grabbed a basic black tank-top from her closet, along with her favorite pair of jeans and her black Chucks. After grabbing out a pair of socks and panties from her "intimate" drawer, she laid her clothes out and headed into the shower.
After washing, shaving, and standing in the scorching fall of rain that flowed from the shower head, she hurried out of her personal bathroom, dressed, and headed down for breakfast.
She followed the scent of blueberry pancakes into the kitchen.
Into the den of the women with the slimy hands; the one that had burned her in her dream...the one that had left her scarred.
"Morning, Mom."