| NaNoWriMo Part 1 |
[Nov 4th, 2:13am] |
The alarm clock flipped on, the CD player starting up waking up the prone body in the bed. The music that would follow was the industrial metal of Nine Inch Nails, something guaranteed to wake Alana from even one of her deepest dreams, if only because of the oddity that composed the songs. Besides, most of the time, the songs creeped her out. Her dreams had always been highly influenced by the outside environmental changes, as if she was always just ready to be woken. Even when she was exhausted, it only took a disturbing dream to wake her. Though if she was more interested than disturbed, often the dream could go on for what seemed like hours.
Hair mussed, the young woman rose with a decidedly tired posture and turned off the alarm clock before the song even reached the lyrics. She'd always found it interesting that while dreams were supposedly unconscious reminders of stress and other thoughts that plagued a person, she never had to go through a dream she didn't want to, and she could always finish a dream to it's conclusion if she wished. Strange, but at 23 years of age, she'd gotten used to this ability. If it was even really fair to call it such.
Wiping at her eyes she looked at the clock. 6 o' clock already? Of course, that was the reason her alarm went off. She had to be to the restaurant in an hour. Guh. An hour and it started all over again. Alana almost always worked the evening shifts that inevitably went until 2 or 3 in the morning, thus the reason her alarm was set for six in the evening. She had been hoping that her boss might give her a few days off at the beginning of the week, but instead she had Friday and Saturday off. Which, most people would be thankful for, she thought as she turned on the shower. But the weekend had little meaning to her. Alana'd become somewhat of a shut in after her parents had died. She didn't have a car, so if she ever did want to do something at her friends' urging to go out, then they'd have to come get her. She hated that. Being a burden was one of the most frustrating things to her, and she'd felt she'd spent too much of her life doing that already.
Turning off the light and putting on a night light plugged into the bathroom wall, she hopped into the shower. Strong flourescent lights had always been painful to her eyes, so she tried to avoid it whenever possible. Actual sunshine had never bothered her, but for some reason the fake shine a strong light could bathe the world in made her feel sick to her stomach as if it was wrong.
The water was hot, but not hot enough. She turned it hotter and felt her skin react with goosebumps. If there was one invention mankind had gotten right, it was the flowing of hot water straight into one's home. Today was going to be slow, or at least she was hoping it was going to be. Yesterday had been long. A midshift dealing with newbies who were hardly up to snuff yet, which was fine, but frustrating on a day that she was exhausted. Constantly she had to remind herself that they were new, well, with a few exceptions, like Fredrich who everyone called Mr. Boston for a reason that still escaped her. Actually, she'd taken to calling him Olive Oil, since he'd though the cannisters of olive oil meant for salads that were next to the sink were actually soap containers and washed his hands with that. He was a sweet boy, but he'd been there for three months now and still had trouble counting change when they split tips at night.
The only reason she'd made it was Denver. He was the handsome assistant manager who worked above her. He was about as country as a man could be without being a hick or a redneck. He wore cowboy boots underneath his khaki pants to work, he loved watching football, bass fishing and hunting competitions and he made her laugh. He had a cute smile, a body that wasn't all that bad, although a little soft around the middle because of some of the drinking he did, and he thought that her jokes were funny too. He'd sympathized with her pain of being a manager, because he was one too, and whenever there was something that was a little too much, he was more than happy to help her. A literal knight in shining armor, and Alana was head over heels.
Of course, Denver had no idea of her crush, she was certain, and he was nice to her because that was just the way he was. Despite his country upbringing which normally she would dislike, it gave him a certain charm and down to earth quality that made her glow whenever she talked about him. Her room mate continually reminded her about this, though Alana was certain this was not because Bella approved of her choice. No, Alana was certain Bella did not think that the match would work, especially with Denver's need to party and Alana's disposition to read a good book at night with some hot tea or blast a few enemies on her new favorite video game.
Bella was in the same position Alana was in life, but they were very different at the core. Somehow though, this worked. Bella was very outgoing all the time, with loads of friends who she made an effort to be with as often as possible. Her phone, one of her most prized possessions, was glued to her hand while she texted about every 5 minutes lest she was at work. The woman was boy crazy and had been since she was born. Alana wouldn't be surprised if the infant Bella had popped out of her mother and checked out the doctor who'd just delivered her.
Stepping out of the shower, Alana wrapped a towel about her, combed her hair quickly and looked in the mirror to make sure her face was presentable. Brushing her teeth she exited the bathroom to find her room mate making an ethnic dinner. It smelled fantastic, but Alana was going to have to eat at the restaurant anyway today if she wanted to actually make it on time.
"Hey there, pretty mama," Bella called, giving a wolf whistle, "Did you get dressed up like that just for me?" The exotic looking woman raised her eyebrows suggestively as Alana playfully modeled her towel clad body complete with toothpaste residue around her lips and toothbrush sticking out of her mouth. Alana winked at her and gestured to ask what exactly she was making.
"Enchiladas. The meat isn't the best, and tortillas are rip offs, but are you going to do?" She said, turning back to her meal, and flipping one of the tortillas over. The TV was on, and tuned in to some show with girls talking to one another about something way too fast. It was a typical show for her room mate, and Alana shook her head as she sat on the futon. Her gaze wandered over to the cooking woman as she finished brushing her teeth.
Bella was beautiful as her namesake implied. Who knew that the combined blood of a Mexican man and an Irish woman could make such a looker? Bella had dark, lavish curls which trailed down to her mid back, and although she despaired of them, Alana knew that Bella would rather die than give up her hair. Her eyes was as black as jet and her skin was so white that Alana joked that it glowed in the dark. Her lips were like red like roses, and while it sounded cliche, there was no other way to describe it. This of course, was helped by the fact that her favorite color of lipstick to wear was deep crimson. She was voluptuous in her figure, but that only accentuated her curves. Her breasts were large, much larger than Alana could have ever hoped, or wanted for, though Bella was quite happy with them, and it certainly helped bring the boys to her. For as much as Bella loved boys, the boys loved her right back.
Standing up, and going back to the bathroom, she spat out the toothpaste and got dressed. Her uniform usually consisted of form fitting black-grey pants, a blouse of some sort, today was a ravishing blood red color which Alana was fond of, and a pony tail holder to keep her hair out of her face. The last was health regulations rather than company or personal choice. Her shoulder length auburn hair would undoubtedly get in the way regardless, and she had been at the restaurant for two years now, long enough not to complain about it any longer. She wore little to no makeup to work since there was no one to impress since Denver was not there. A passing glance and she left the room heading to the door.
"Hey, sugar plum!" Bella called, "Are you leaving, already?"
"Yeah," Alana said, glancing at her watch, she looked back up at her room mate, "I have to be at work in about 30 minutes."
"Can you take the trash out when you get home? I'm planning on doing some hefty cleaning tonight. You know doing the whole domestic thing, while you bring home the bread."
"Yeah, yeah," the taller woman said, sticking out her tongue at her, "I know you're just soooo happy about your day off."
( 'What can I say? I guess the world just loves me more.' )
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