Accolade

chapitre quatre

It was time to wake up. 

If this was all a nightmare, and I was still asleep, I needed to open my eyes. I had spent the night going in and out of a fretful sleep, afraid of the shadows in the corners of my room enough to keep a light on. I don't know why I couldn't convince myself that this was reality. My reality. 

Denial had taken hold. 

By the time the morning colors arrived outside my window, I was already staring at the ceiling. My legs were aching, and reminding me that Dr. Welch said I shouldn't be putting stress on my skeleton. That meant I couldn't run. I begrudgingly watched my nightstand clock tick past fifty-thirty until I finally got up at six. 

Dr. Welch had given me pain medication, I had picked it up from a pharmacy on my way home yesterday, and I was supposed to take it every eight hours. I hadn't even opened the bottle. Something dark and ugly inside of me knew I didn't want those pills, I didn't need them. 

What if I relied on it? What if I got addicted? 

What if I never got better? 

My thoughts twisted themselves into a dark cloud within my mind. I rubbed at my tired, sleepless eyes, and walked into my bathroom. I couldn't stomach looking at myself in the mirror, so I took a hot shower, brushed my hair, dried my skin, and left without a glance. 

I didn't need to see the truth. 

Not yet. 

My apartment was decorated in warm tones of brown and light green. I had little plants perched on shelves around the living room, a few hanging baskets in the window that was big enough it reached the floor and ceiling as it overlooked the waking city. I had hand-knit, oversized throws hung over the back of my cozy little couch and waiting in baskets under the glass coffee table to be used when my guests were chilled. 

Plush, earth-tone rugs covered most of the hardwood floor. I loved the look of hardwood, but I couldn't stand the chill in the winter. Rugs just made it feel warmer. The only room that wasn't carpeted was the vacant guest room that I used to practice on the off-hours away from the studio. There were only three bedrooms, mine being the largest and most spacious, with the same earthy theme staying true. 

It was mostly an open floor plan, which is why I fell in love with it right out of high school. The living room and kitchen were only separated by an L-shaped counter. It was the perfect size for someone living alone, and there were two bathrooms. I kept my washer and dryer in the second bathroom since I didn't use that one too much. 

There were inspiring life quotes lingering everywhere around my apartment. Either stickers, or pictures, or wooden signs, they added to the inspiring dream I pursued. Of course, I had two shelves for the awards that I had won doing ballet, with lots of pictures of my family and friends accompanying them. One resided in the living room, next to my giant flat screen television, and the other shelf was in my room and it held my greatest achievements. 

I often purchased candid photos from the paparazzi. 

I wandered into my kitchen and started on breakfast. I made myself scrambled eggs with a touch of spinach, and avocado toast, then I added some yogurt with granola crumbles in it. Lastly, I had my tea. I had never really been a coffee drinker, and tea proved a healthier alternative. 

I didn't really know what to do with myself because I didn't want to face the paparazzi again but I wasn't used to being home. I usually always left my house by seven thirty, which is what time it came to be when I was finished eating. I thought back on everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, and I wanted to pretend it didn't. So, I did.