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52.

Bonnibel rasped out ragged delayed breaths as the last of bit of vomit crawled up her throat and deposited in the dirty toilet bowl. She didn't know if it was the distasteful smell of grease that lofted the air, her lack of rest, the human within her stomach, or the overwhelming feeling of her job, but she let loose the little bit of food she had left ahead of her. She sputtered up the after spit and leaned harshly against the stall, regaining her composure and steady breathing. She hated almost everything about her daily routine. She hated the shitty customers with picky attitudes regarding her effort of service, the middle aged men with their cat calling and ill-mannered comments on her cleavage, the toddlers who's beverage or food always somehow ended up on her shirt. Just the thought of this being her everyday life disrupted the little peace she had. Waking up everyday and going to work, caring for a child that was given an unfair advantage in life, enjoying nothing and having no joy or happiness, repeat. The sting of tears began to whelm her eyes shamelessly, pelting right into her arms that perched on her rosy red knees, her bottom planted on the grimy floor of her workplace bathroom. Maybe it was just the hormones that attacked her emotions, but she no longer held back the curses her brain emitted at her vulnerability, hiccuping in her sorrow as the trickle of tears snaked down her rough red cheeks. She hated her job, she hated the trailer park, she hated the circumstances in which they had to leave the town, she hated where she was in life. She hated just about anything except for the person who got her where she was. Marceline. Every passing second of the day the thought of her broke free from the captivity she confined it in. She hated it. Just the mere thought of her narrow fingers numbly slithering up her face and resting at her cheek kept her from functioning properly. She missed her lover dearly. Bonnibel was slow to collect herself and steady her breathing once more before dabbing at her tears with the thin tissue paper tossed raggedly against the roll. On wobbly legs, she staggered upwards on her feet, taking extra precaution to clear her face of any distress, not having the energy or want to explain to her coworkers why she was crying in the first place. Only with the reassurance that her stomach was empty and her tears had dried, she opened the door, putting on her most natural smile, though she didn't feel much in a smiling mood. "Bonnibel! We need you back in the kitchen!" Her co-worker whizzed past her, planting a handful of crumpled orders in her hand during the process. She put on her work face and grinned. "Right, on it." When their face wasn't within seeing distant, she let loose the effort of tugging her cheeks upwards, suppressing a sigh of sadness only for her ears, making her way towards where the smell of grease inhabited.

Bonnibel lurched forward as the bus halted to a stop a bit farther than the bus stop. Slipping her arms into the wool sleeves of her coat and standing to her feet, Bonnibel eased her way from the awkward smelling bus seat and down the walk way to the double door exit. The wind was chilly from the lack of sun, the cold winds rustling past the guard of her coat and up her sleeves under the supervision of the bright moon. Under the radiant view of light and the cloudless sky, she started her journey to the trailer park, which was atleast a block away. On days as such when her feet went stiff with pain from being on them all day, she envied the walk, and with the child sprouting in her stomach, the walk would only feel longer and heavier. But in defeat, she walked, the condition of her shoes growing worn out everyday she did so. Past the bus stop surrounded by shriveled grass and patches of dirt, the old broken down truck that had been stranded on the side of the road for weeks, the light post strung up crooked like a lopsided tree, the pack of houses huddled together, and the old gas station, Bonnibel arrived at the entrance of the trailer park. The joyful wails of children tottering around the park greeted her before the absence of Keila's car in the driveway. Probably another night shift, though a lonely night for Bonnibel. Keila had been a big help to her ever since her arrival in her home, but since recently their friendship had been off, and she was sure Keila had noticed before anything. It had been apparent to Bonnibel herself that she had become distant, as if she was suddenly weighed down by her new stage of life. She was growing, things change, thing definitely changed, and under her circumstances, not for the better. Why push that defeat on others? She didn't, and instead kept herself isolated, mentally and physically. As bad as that seemed, she found comfort with Keila ignorant of her situation. Delaying her mental interpretation, Bonnibel hitched up the wooden steps one by one and into the house. Just as quickly as she entered the house, her luggage was quickly shedded and skewed about on her bedroom floor. Trying her best to exclude the self inflicting thoughts given by her head, Bonnibel disposed of her coat and collapsed into the comfort of her bed. The scratchy wool blanket enveloped her and her eyes clasped shut, desperate with desire for sleep.

Her face, twisted with distraught, speckled with driplets of blood that eased down her face, fusing with the persistent beads of sweat, jumped at her. Her expression seeped with fear and fret as she eagerly tried to obliterate any particle of blood on her hands in the sink. It didn't work. The water was colored red. Bonnibel turned to run in fear, only colliding with another presence. She wasn't able to process who until the aggressive creases of his face greeted her along with his arms, that held her shoulders harshly. He was barking on about her failure, his disappointment, their dilemma, demanding for her to become obedient to go. She was only able to stagger away into the darkness when his grip let loose and the voice was no more. She stumbled over her feat, gasping for air, submerging deeper into the darkness with no knowledge of her destination. It was only then her eyes laid upon him in the distance, tall and mighty hovering over the vast expanse of nothing. His crooked grin fled the line his mouth, his lips rolling back from how hard he was smiling. "Oh Bonnibel~" she didn't appreciate the way her name rolled of his tounge. Quicker than the snap of a finger, she was in his grasp, screaming, thrashing furiously, begging to be released. He only laughed as the sound of his belt being unbuckled fled her ears. Reclaiming her stollen breath, Bonnibel surged up in bed, swiping away at the drops of sweat that slithered down her face. A chocked sob made its way up her throat, turning into a whimper, then a sob upon its release. She threw her legs over the bed in silence, burying her head in her palms and contemplating what to do. What to do about the agonizing feelings that ate away at her mental state, the constant isolation and fear that thrived within her, the emptiness that crawled in her chest. With no regard to the contents on her dresser, she knocked everything to the floor, expelling a desperate cry in the process. She let loose all the pent up pain, rage, sorrow, and every emotion could be heard in her desperate cries. When all the despair fled through her mouth and tears, and she was crumpled to the floor on her knees, Bonnibel took no second thought to the action she was gonna commit. Quivering in her stance, she slumped to the kitchen and to the fridge. With no second thought, she yanked open the handle, laying eyes on the first thing in her sight. In her own disgrace, she held the neck of the bottle, popping the top, and throwing back her head. Pressing the rim of the bottle to her lips, she drank the liquid, no regards to the life blooming within her.