Status: Read if you want. If you don't, don't. If you read, don't judge me.
As They Come Upon Me
Not Quite The Smell Of A Boy.
All is well as the shorthaired girl makes her way down the tiled hall. She just emerged from an increasingly long and relaxing bubble bath. The warm water loosened her muscles from the physical stress of watching Food Network as a two-and-a-half year old plays in the sandbox near her, and the fruity aroma of the bubble soap quenched her non-existent hunger.
Her legs dripped water as she walked, her feel tapping the cool ground with each step.
The farther she moved toward her current destination, the more a strange feeling began to form in the pit of her stomach. Something wasn’t quite right in the world where she exists.
As she stopped, the normally white door seemed to loom before her surrounded by mist. It wasn’t the mystical, magical kind of mist that would suggest some sort of Narnia, but ominous fog that made her cringe.
The girl kept a firm hand on her pink, butterfly towel and used the other the cautiously open the door. Immediately, she girl was smacked across face by the scent that is her bedroom.
The smell itself seemed to consist of two weeks worth of dirty laundry that was strewn about her floor, the pile of recyclable bottles that still had water in them, trash that hadn’t been taken out in months, and bed sheets that hadn’t been washed in so long they seemed to have a life of their own.
She found consolation only in the fact that her brother’s probably smelled worse when he lived at home; at least her clean clothes were in a basket and not in a pile next to the dirty ones.
Without hesitation, she threw on the first pair of clean underwear she could find, shorts, and a sports bra: working clothes.
Dan Howell and Phil Lester play in the background as the girl worked to battle the mess she was currently living in. Papers from years past banned together to form giant spiders and griffins; junk became mother bears protecting the babies they had stolen; Christmas candy became the energizing substance she devoured to help her through the exhausting night.
Finally, when the battle was over, she sat on the Bed Of Victory and inventoried her lost treasure.
ITEM; TIME MISSING
Check From Grandpa; one month
Vitamin A&D Ointment; three months
Old Physics; Tests varied
Cotton Rounds; five months
Her Soul; seventeen years
What a delicious find.
Her legs dripped water as she walked, her feel tapping the cool ground with each step.
The farther she moved toward her current destination, the more a strange feeling began to form in the pit of her stomach. Something wasn’t quite right in the world where she exists.
As she stopped, the normally white door seemed to loom before her surrounded by mist. It wasn’t the mystical, magical kind of mist that would suggest some sort of Narnia, but ominous fog that made her cringe.
The girl kept a firm hand on her pink, butterfly towel and used the other the cautiously open the door. Immediately, she girl was smacked across face by the scent that is her bedroom.
The smell itself seemed to consist of two weeks worth of dirty laundry that was strewn about her floor, the pile of recyclable bottles that still had water in them, trash that hadn’t been taken out in months, and bed sheets that hadn’t been washed in so long they seemed to have a life of their own.
She found consolation only in the fact that her brother’s probably smelled worse when he lived at home; at least her clean clothes were in a basket and not in a pile next to the dirty ones.
Without hesitation, she threw on the first pair of clean underwear she could find, shorts, and a sports bra: working clothes.
Dan Howell and Phil Lester play in the background as the girl worked to battle the mess she was currently living in. Papers from years past banned together to form giant spiders and griffins; junk became mother bears protecting the babies they had stolen; Christmas candy became the energizing substance she devoured to help her through the exhausting night.
Finally, when the battle was over, she sat on the Bed Of Victory and inventoried her lost treasure.
ITEM; TIME MISSING
Check From Grandpa; one month
Vitamin A&D Ointment; three months
Old Physics; Tests varied
Cotton Rounds; five months
Her Soul; seventeen years
What a delicious find.
♠ ♠ ♠
So about half way through this, I stretched and knocked down my Full Metal Alchemist wall scroll, again. This is the third time.Note To Self: Find a better place for Ed and Al.