Stealing Ruby

Breakfast

I don't remember falling asleep, but I remember waking up. I lift my head of the wooden desk and wipe the drool of my face. Glancing down, I quickly wipe off the pool of drool with the sleeve of my old, grey hoody. It's warm and cozy, but sadly is falling apart and has many mysterious stand on it. I stand up from the desk and stretch. Turning my neck one way then the other, I can't quite get the soreness out of it. I scratch my head and make my way out of my room. I stop at the bathroom and look at my self. My hoody is about the sizes too big and is falling off one of my shoulders, letting my t shirt peak out. I wear my blue pad plad pajamas, which I had gotten last month so they're still gloriously soft and fuzzy. My hair is one giant fur ball of unknown species. Dark circles are under my eyes as always. Yep, the look of perfection.

I zombie walk out of the bathroom and make my way to the kitchen. I am half the way down the hall when I smell it. The sweet smells of pancakes. I abandon the apocalypse and run into the kitchen. I look over at the stove and immediately trip over my feet and fall into the hard floor. But that's not all. Oh no, I'm not that lucky. I slide over the floor and right under the legs of my unexpected victim. The person's legs go flying over then and they land on the floor next to me, spilling the pancake which he had been holding.

I look over and an shocked to see Hood laying in the four next to me. Why was he here? Wait, that must mean-
"Breakfast!" Cleaning Lady shouts, a spatula in his hand and a flowery apron over his t shirt and jeans. First a cleaning lady and now a cook?

I hear pounding footsteps and in rushes in Cherry Bomb, Firecracker, Chameleon, and Palm reader. It looks like they all just rolled out of bed and went through a war zone. They each dash to grab a plate then a stack of pancakes, quickly sitting at the table and digging in.
"I was going to yell that." Whines Hood. Cleaning Lady just turns back to the burner and starts making some more pancakes. I lift my self up and grab a plastic plate (did you actually expect me to use a glass plate?) and make my way up to Cleaning Lady. He turns to me and plops two pancakes into my plate. My mouth start to water as I make my way over to the table. I quickly spread some peanut butter on it and pour about a gallon of syrup on top of it. I grab a glass of milk and make my way out if the room.

"Where do you think your going?" Cleaning Lady calls after me. I freeze and slowly turn around. All my team freezes, forks halfway to their mouth. "I- um . . ." Cherry bomb comes to my rescue. "She usually eats in her room." She says, before stuffing a fork full of pancake into her mouth. I turn around, but once again am stopped. "Why?" Hood asks. Cherry Bomb's mouth is stuffed, but she doesn't seem to mind. "Fe owt wih fofering." The boys stair at her. Firecracker shakes her head. "She said, 'she doesn't like peopleing.'" Cleaning Lady raises an eyebrow at me. "Peopleing?"

Firecracker leans over to Palm Reader and stage whispers, "for obvious reasons." I grimace. Yes, I am a hazard around most people, and yes I don't do well peopleing, but it's not as if I can control my luck. Believe me, I've tried to build something to do it, but nothing seemed to work. I was about to turn again when a hand grabs the back if my neck. "I think you can eat with us today." I recognize the voice as Nightshade herself. She pushes me into the room and brings me over to the table, where she pulls a chair out for me and has me sit. I feel like a freaking two year old, her doing everything for me. But it was probably for the best.

I stair down at my stack of golden pancakes. The moment I try to eat something will happen. It always does. And that something will both embarrass me and ruin this glorious vision of fluffy, sweet and savory pancakes. The sour taste of sleep is bitter on my tongue. Oh, how it would taste to have just one bite. Why did Nightshade do this to me? Was she trying to starve me?

I here someone sit in the chair next to mine, but I can't seem to tear my eyes away from the glorious yet painful sight if my pancakes.

"You going to eat that?" I hear Nightshade ask. I bow my head. Does she realize how painful this is for me? Does she even comprehend the amount of turmoil I'm going through at this moment? Nightshade shrugs and grabs my plate. I stair at the plate, not even looking at her. She takes her fork and . . . No. No! Noooooooooooo!