It's been a long time since I watched my favorite cooking show. I have been so caught up with too many activities that I have not taken the time to sort myself out, and do things other girls my age do. Talking of doing things other girls do, what exactly am I supposed to do? I have no one to hang out with, which makes everything just difficult and boring at the same time.
I know my black hair by now, would be a tangled mess. The last time I took out my time washing it, my mother was the one who undid the hair and took her time combing it and I did the washing. Now, she is in the hospital battling for her life. Maybe my messiness is one of the reasons guys never looked in my direction. I never had good clothes on, any good shoes, and my hair was always in a tied and dirty bun. And talking about shoes, I had just these two pairs of shoes I put on, one which is a brown sandal and the other a purple ballet flat. Few jeans and shirts and my only hoodie which is presently on my body.
I couldn't complain though, it's not like I have money to afford all that. The money I earned at TIMES was for household billings and some for Nolan's school. I have no time for myself which is somehow frustrating at times.
I discarded the white box from which the money came inside to the black trashcan just next to my door. I then walk over to my closest and keep the rest of the money on top of one of its drawers. There are no rats, the money should be safe there.
I would be lying if I say I was not sticking.
I lift my hand and sniffed both armpits. I know that is crazy, however, I step out of my clothes and strode to the small bathroom which has its door facing toward my room. I open the shower and let the water fall down my body, with my eyes closed in the shower, I let everything that happened in the last 24 hours sink. It was quite crazy to see how someone's life would change in a matter of seconds. And if someone's life had to change, I did envision it to be mine. No, never! Never in the history of mankind. Just a few days ago, I was battling with myself and wishing how I will get $20000, and the next day, I found that at my doorstep. The thought of that made me flush my eyes open under the shower. I looked around as though someone just walked in. But there was no one. My instincts were playing with me. Whoever sent that package, I wish they get back to me and clarify all my doubts and get me out of this mess.
"Come on, just tell me who the hell you are". I screamed under the shower, squeezing tight on the pink shampoo container that was in my right hand. I could hear my voice, overshadowing the pitter-patter sound of the shower. "M.T". I heard myself say "and who the hell is M.T?". I question back, but my stupid mind must have gone to sleep as it did not answer back. I let out an annoying sigh through my plump lips, before squeezing the pink bottle of shampoo into my left palm. I took a quantity of it and massaged it into my damn and tangled hair, before gently scrubbing my scalp with it. And I swear the brown liquid that was dropping down from my hair if taken to a pool where fish are, no single one of them is going to survive the toxicity of it. It's awful to think that the dirty liquid is coming out of my hair.
If I was using 30 liters of water to wash my hair, then I bet only 2.5litters would be left now. So bad. I stood on my feet and looked at myself in the mirror that was on the same wall as the shower. And at this point, I did not know if I should feel bad for myself, my mother, or my little brother who accused me of the worst and last thing I'd ever think of doing. Dark circles under my brown eyes. My collarbone protruded out of the surface, my face looking cranky. I used my right thumb to trace my lips and it all felt cracked up under my touch. I'm beginning to lose it. I closed the shower and stepped out of the bathroom and went to my room. I succeeded in drying my hair, with one of my old black cotton gowns. Having done all that, I pick up a pair of gray shorts and a black verse and hang them on my body, before striding over to the couch in the center of my room which is facing the small flat screen TV hanging on the wall across from it.
Time to watch my favorite show. I don't know how to describe it. However, it's a cooking show. It is owned by some rich family here in Chesdom. I like watching cooking shows. Still, the reason I usually watch this particular show, it's because of the chef, who is always a dancer at the same time. Talking of one person having many talents. If God was a man then I would say that he is the God that lives here on earth.
He had this cute laugh that makes me smile each time he laughs. He has dark curls which at most times, are always in four cornrows with the edges tied in a bun behind.
His dark eyes had long lashes flushing over them. Firm cheeks bones on his perfectly made face and his muscles and abs in the right places. All in all, the guy was handsome.
Each time I watch his shows, it keeps me alive and I always find myself trying to copy his dance steps. Just funny how I find myself fantasizing over some guy on screen, who wouldn't look at me if this was real life. The guy whose name I got as Karl is just a bad sweetheart on TV.
Sitting down, my phone beeps on the table and when I checked it, it was a message from an unknown number.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
".."