Tasha's Tasty Tarts

1.1 Paranoia

It was becoming ridiculous how hard it was to sleep. I had lived in this apartment above this bakery on this street for most of my life, and now since my mother was gone, it was a struggle to sleep in my own bed.

Darkness poured in from the night sky outside my window. All I could think about was the fact that I was all alone in this place. If someone was to break through the huge window downstairs I was the one who would have to defend the bakery. If they made it all the way upstairs to the apartment, I would be the one to defend all my mother's belongings. And what if I wasn't even aware someone was inside the apartment? Then everything was vulnerable. I could lose even more than I already had.

A creepy feeling settled over me. I had to get out of bed and check the locks one more time. I made my way through the dark and into the hall. I stopped there, realizing the kitchen light was on. I thought back to a few hours ago when I had made my way to bed.

I remembered turning the television off, walking to the light switch and turning off the light in the living room before doing the same in the kitchen.
But did I really flip the switch?

I thought about the chips I'd been eating and how I had put them in the cupboard. I thought about the cup I set in the sink. I remembered glancing at the switch, thinking to remember to turn it off, but the next thing I remember is knocking a pile of mail off the counter. After I picked it all up, I couldn't remember if I'd flipped the switch.

But I'd also gotten up once before to check the locks. My paranoia was getting worse, I wasn't denying that. I couldn't remember if the light had been on. I took a small step toward the doorway, hoping no one was there, hoping someone hadn't jimmied the lock on the door and helped themselves to all of the things in my kitchen.

I was telling myself I was being silly, that no one even realized there was an apartment above the bakery, so no one was in my house, that I had just left the light on by mistake, when I heard something. It was the district sound of the refrigerator door opening. You know the sound. The fresh whoosh of the air tight seal.

Someone was inside my house.

I took a few brave steps without thinking, and I was suddenly standing in the middle of the doorway. I could see into the kitchen. The light was indeed on, the refrigerator was indeed open, and there was a person leaning over to peer inside. I felt my throat closing up, and I knew I was on the verge of a panic attack.

But then Babs and all her glory peaked over the door at me and grinned and I thought I was going to faint from relief. I found myself leaning against the door frame, unable to hold my own weight, as she closed the fridge and set an armload of food on the counter.

"What are you doing here?" I finally found my voice. Babs didn't even glance at me as she opened up the bread box and found an unopened loaf for her consumption.

"I live here, Tasha." She said with a sigh. She began to put together a sandwich, and I began to regain my sense of security.

"Of course!" I said, now feeling annoyed with her. She had scared me, and I was not one who enjoyed the feeling, "Babs, you've been gone for months."

"Okay, well I'm back now." She gave a shrug like it was no big deal. "Oh! So I was staying with my cousin in Italy, who may or may not have been excommunicated by the Pope, and we were at this huge party and-"

"Babs!" I shouted, my hands clutching onto my hair. "Please, it's three in the morning. I only got up because I was paranoid and checking the lock! I really don't want to stand here and talk about your fabulous trip to Italy."

Babs stared at me like I had lost my mind while she was gone. Maybe I had, who could really say? I stared back at her, waiting for her to express her offense, but she stayed silent.

Eventually I turned and went back to bed. I didn't care what Babs did in the kitchen, I didn't care if the Pope actually excommunicated her cousin or not, and I didn't care that she was probably eating all my food. What I did care about was the fact that I forgot to check the locks.