Awake. Awake all night under the covers thinking about tomorrow for most of the night. It was a restless sleep, if I slept at all, I couldn't remember either way. Sounds in the middle of the night disturbed the little drowsiness I had, the creak of the radiator, the whisper of the fan, even the drip of the sink did not go unheard. The pillow was too rigid, the sheets too itchy. The comforter was stifling yet when the air conditoner kicked on, suddenly it was too cold. There was always something to remind me I wasn't in my own room anymore.
Right as the glaringly red numbers on the alarm clock showed 5:00, the phone blessedly rang and I practically leaped out of bed, unbelievably relieved that the night was at last over. I swiftly got dressed in jean shorts laced with a plain brown belt and a loose orange tank and walked out of the room, through the painted white hallways with the jade carpeting and the sheer oval shaped windows on either ends, down two floors to the open, glass-window filled lobby. Seriously, there were wall-to-floor windows covering the entire East side of the room. They faced the dimly lit street and farther back, the navy blue ocean now covered completely in darkness. That was momentarily exciting. Until I realized I wouldn't be allowed to leave the building at all except by car.
While I sat eating in the empty dining area with fancy ornate wooden chairs I surveyed the room noting the large aquarium in the far back corner. Surely there were mini Finding Nemo fish swimming around in there, planning their escape. I helped myself to a kiwi and toast spread with strawberry marmalade, food that seemed to be the staple breakfast options. Spread out on the table were other fruits available such as mangoes, bananas, and oranges. Two minutes later, Ms. Rude and Fatty entered the room with palpable silence between them, for the first time I wondered if he was a precaution for me or for her protection. I finished up my small meal while she ordered a skinny latte and he had a fried croissant. Five minutes later, we were at last on our way.
It was still black out so I was hardly able to glimpse any stores or gather any concept of Australia. It was like being outside at night and having a blindfold on while there was a meteorite shower in the sky. Blind. We finally arrived at what seemed like the only open franchise at this time of morning, flashing an OPEN sign in neon pink lights. Even the sign above the double glass doors "Veronica's" was dark and lifeless.
In fact, once we entered I realized everything was furnished in pink. Pink vinyl covered chairs, pink flowered wallpaper, pink fluffy rugs, and even pink accessories. It wasn't that I didn't like pink but even I had a limit. I was almost grateful there weren't frames filled with Yorkshire Terriers on the wall as well.Thankfully, the reek of hair products and perfume was not overpowering and I could remain in my half-asleep state. Without further ado we made a quick greeting to the only cosmetician in the store and started the lengthy process. I considered myself fortunate for skipping the tan but the waxing was a whole different ordeal entirely. Without a doubt it was the worst discomfort I have ever felt then or since.
"Hold still, dearie, you're almost done," was the common reassurance for what seemed like hours. Everything stung and throbbed afterwards leaving me in a complete haze. The lady, as it turns out, was actually Australian and very comforting. A large woman with more curves than rolls and curly brown hair covered by a green scarf. Her apron name tag spelled out Dee, in an obnoxious curvy print but she had a soothing sureness to her that I took comfort in.
Meanwhile, the hoebag sat in a waiting chair to the side reading yet another magazine, zoned out. There might have been a five minute break before Dee moved on to my eyebrows. During which I comforted myself for not having to suffer a tanning bed.
Excruciating agony followed when the wax was torn off, making my head pulse stressfully. As it turns out I did decide to have another piercing done in my ear and after a moment's hesitation, one in my stomach as well. Incidentally I had never been quite daring enough to ask my mom for permission and there really was no going back once Ms. Priss urged me not to, even at my slightest interest. I decided it had to be done. Her lip had curled up and her eyebrows furrowed cruelly but what could she do? I wondered if it would become infected afterwards, but Dee insisted the cleaning antiseptic formula she gave me would keep the wound sterilized even in the wild, as long as I used it daily. I regretted the decision even as the needle stuck through my skin. It was only an extra hassle, I would probably just look like an idiot to the others now if it did prove to be a problem.
YOU ARE READING
Chosen
Action"I don’t know why I was chosen. I had only thought of it before in passing. Everyone chosen before was always in a different country, a world away. But here I was, the message sent, the alert out. There was only one other person chosen that I knew...
