Hey, fellow Sadgurlz!
Here’s the second part of my straight-from-the-dome story/writing exercise, Queen of the Blah. So far, Sorine’s found herself in a bit of a pickle. Her nosey roommate won’t stop poking her nose in her business, she’s woken up after spending the night with a mysterious lover, and…well, I don’t want to spoil it if you missed part one!
Just a reminder! Queen of the Blah is a story for exclusive Sadgurlz. If you’d like to follow along or support the tale, upgrade your subscription to $8/month.
Now, onto part two.
Part 2
I must’ve taken some weird drug.
Maybe the blunt the girl had handed me as she stared deep into my eyes by the beer pong table was laced with…I don’t know…something. Maybe she was a witch, whispering hexes in my ear while we held each other by the bathroom, swaying to the sounds of Jessica retching and gagging over her toilet. Maybe I was losing my mind.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
After racking my brain for answers that weren’t there, I decided the best course of action would be to retrace my steps. I concealed my new fleshy appendage with the baggiest sweats I could find in the piles of clothing strewn about my bedroom floor. Then, I draped myself in a loose sweater for extra coverage before slipping out of my bedroom door. My steps were light and quiet. I was practically floating down the hallway, past Tabitha’s room, hoping she wouldn’t hear my escape and stick her nose in my affairs again.
I tip-toed through our tiny, cramped living room and past our tiny, cramped kitchen until I reached the front door. I inhaled deeply, readying myself to face the world for the first time as a freak. Well, not that kind of freak. My reputation as a recluse with strange behavior and odd beliefs preceded me. Instead, I’d become a freak of the circus sideshow variety.
“Where are you going?” Tabitha’s voice whispered in my ear.
Startled, I jumped and spun around, expecting Tabitha’s owlish eyes to be mere inches from my face. Instead, she stood across the living room in the dark hallway. Her body was shrouded in shadow, and her glasses glinted in the dim light of our thrifted old reading lamp.
“Just heading out,” I answered. “How’d you do that? With your voice—”
“You should be careful, you know,” she whispered.