Reduced to Ruin

Chapter 9

I awoke in pitch darkness and thought for a moment I must be dead. I wasn't sad about it exactly, more like ambivalent. I had no interest in understanding yet another realm.

But then I turned over and saw the alarm clock on the nightstand. It blinked 7:28 a.m. It hit me. Where was the light? There were no windows! No windows in the bedroom. No windows in the kitchen. No windows in the family room.

No light. Trapped. I was trapped. I was going to end up suffocating in a small one-bedroom apartment. I was never going to see the light of day or a full moon again. What was life for a native Southern Californian without the warmth of the sun? I would never see a unique cloud pattern again. I would never see freedom again.

This is your bed now, Corrine. You better get used to it, I said to myself in despair.

"I thought I heard you up." James was suddenly standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and a little smile slipping in at the side of his lips. Light from the other room lit up the bedroom.

"Good morning," he said.

I said nothing.

"How are you feeling?"

"Just peachy," I said, glumly.

"I was pretty worried about you last night, you know. You sounded pretty sick."

"Yeah, well, I wonder why."

"No worries. You'll feel better soon. Why don't you go take a shower and get dressed. That always makes me feel better."

James came over to the bed and pulled down the comforter and blanket. It wasn't a request. He was right, though. I felt awful. I hadn't taken a shower in three days. My hair was filthy, I stunk, and my teeth felt like they were growing moss.

I climbed out of the bed, went into the bathroom, and closed the door. All the while he was staring at me, watching my every move. Gross.

The shower felt so good, almost reviving me. My favorite soap, shampoo, and conditioner were on the sill waiting for me. It was an odd coincidence to have the exact same brands I liked at home.

Once I was done, I fell into one of the expensive, thick towels I could never afford. If I didn't know any better, I'd think I was staying at a five star hotel. I wondered what James did for a living to support such luxuries. He certainly wasn't a social worker.

I rummaged through the medicine cabinet and the drawers and found everything I needed. Many products were the same brands I purchased at home: Oral-B Soft Bristle toothbrush—Secret Invisible Deodorant (no scent)—Lubriderm Lotion for Dry Skin. It was almost like being at home, sharing a bathroom with Lisa. I stood staring into the cupboard. This was definitely too much of a coincidence.

I put on the plush bathrobe that was hanging on the hook behind the bathroom door and slowly opened the door. The coast was clear, my green light to head to the closet—my closet.

I slid the right door all the way open and stared at my new clothes. I had never been a fashionista, so it really didn't matter to me to have all of these beautiful clothes. Besides, I wondered where in the world I would ever wear some of these nice duds, like a black cocktail dress.

Not to mention, there was no way in hell I was going to fit in them. I looked at the tags—size eight. What in the hell was he thinking? I was a size twelve and hadn't been in an eight since high school. It was just like men not to know anything about women's clothing.

I kept thumbing through the closet and wanted to find a t-shirt and jeans, something that wouldn't call too much attention to myself. I was going right to left, working methodically, and noticing all of the clothes were size eight, then they suddenly turned to size ten. If I was lucky, I could find something baggy in size ten that would fit.