Bad A** (UNEDITIED RAW VERSION)

Part One: June-10

Blinking, I looked around the room. I scanned the peach like walls. I glanced at the stained carpet, torn comforter, and thinning drapes. The clock on the bedside table read 9:10, the lamp read Fabulous. I scoffed, this room is anything but fabulous.

“HA!” I whipped my head around to Perry, who stood, arms raised, beside the chair he popped up by.

“P-Perry?” I asked, sitting up, “What are you doing?”

He froze in his victorious stance and blushed, stuttering nonsense. I stood and streatched in my wrinkled dress. I stopped when I saw three tissue boxes sitting upside down on the floor. I looked back to Perry, whose arms were now at his sides but his blush still resided on his face.

“D-d-don’t lift up, the, the tissue box-es,” He coughed, “Ro-roaches are u-un-underne-neath them.”

“Oh,” I looked back down at the tissue boxes. I carefully stepped around the boxes till I stood by Perry, “I think I’m going to take a shower.”

He nodded and moved a little to the left so I could reach my suitcase that sat on the chair. I unzipped it and pulled out a fresh set of bras and pantys. I grabbed a clean dress and wrapped them up so the boys couldn’t see my underwear. Speaking of boys, I looked back at my bed and then around the room.

“Hey Perry?” I asked, watching as he pounced back onto his feet and out from under his bed, “Where’s Hunter?”

“He w-went to g-get some break-fe-fest,” He said, slightly distracted by his roach traping.

“Ok,” I said as I walked into the bathroom, which was just as fabulous as the main room. On the white tiled floor, a blue tissue box sat, echoing a tap tap tap out to the bathroom.

I wonder why he just trap the roaches, why not just kill the ugly things? And, where did he get all of those tissue boxes?

Once my crumpled clothing rested on the sink and the newly chosen sat on the towel rack, I steped into the steaming shower. My body instantly relaxed, but something prevented my brain from doing so. It poked and prawled like a caged beast, causing an erruption of a migraine.

A man’s hand held a wrench, his finger pointed at the curve. He dropped the tool and picked up a car radio, completely detached from the vehicle. The same oil creased finger drew imaginary lines to each wire. He put it back down and the hand reached to caress my cheek-

I yelped and dug the lower palm of my hand into my forehead, trying to push out the migrane. I slid down the wall, closing my eyes agianst the brightning bathroom light. I hissed in pain.

Knock, Knock.

The water around me grew ice cold, sending my body into a jittering rage.

“Ri-Riley?” Perry’s voice echoed and screeched in my mind, “A-Are y-you okay?”

“Ye-eah,” I gasped, stuttering myself from the pain and the cold, “J-just got-gotta migrane…Ahh!”

My breathing quickened, making it hard to breath. Less and less air entered my lungs until…

…The water grew warm once again, my brain calmed. The beast layed, sleeping in it’s cage.Still a little shaky, I stood up in the shower and continued bathing.

When I stepped out of the shower, I grabbed my blue dress and clothed my self. The only noise I herd was the dripping water, the soft thump of a roach trying to escape, and the creaks and sush of Perry nervously shiffting outside the bathroom door. When I step out, dressed and ready to brush my hair, he seemed so shocked. Almost like he expected I would never come out or if I never walked in.

“Ar-Are you sure your o-o-ka-kay?” He twitched, awkwardy switching from my eyes to the floor to the wall and back again.

“It was just a migrane,” I smiled, trying to make him feel better, “I just forgot to take my pill last night I was just so tired.”

He accepted that. And it was partially true, I did forget to take my pill, but they are for my alleries not for migranes.

Perry returned to hiding all the roaches in the fabulous room under the paisley tissue boxes. At least he is content and not blushing wildly. Sighing, I grabbed my brush from my bag and stuffed my dirty clothes into an empty pocket. After a couple of hard tugs, I turned on the television and flipped through until A Stars Start came on. Singer Carolina Lakewood sat in a living room, laughing with a dark haired girl who wore a similar smile. I continued to force the brush through my hair and mindlessly watched the clebertity describe her best friend Scarlet’s fall into the land of the notorious. I could tell she, and the girl who turned out to be her sister, California, were skirting around something. I wonder what it was.

One last snarl and my hair was neat, well at least as neat as the wavy mass of strawberry blonde hair could be.

Clean and ready, all I could do now was watch the celeberty interviews and Perry’s epic battles of catching roaches until Hunter returned.