The young woman takes in a breath as though for the first time in her life while remaining calm and steady with her eyes closed. It matters little that she is purposefully rendering herself blind since the room is almost pitch black with the curtains drawn to keep out the sunlight. There is only one lightsource and that is the glow coming from the cracked, china doll mask that she wears.
She reaches behind her head with both hands and carefully unfastens the simple ribbon that keeps the face obscuring device secure to her head. She removes it and feels the luminance it gives off whenever its power is invoked as her eyes are still closed. Currently, it is the only extraneous source of light in the blanket of darkness that surrounds her.
Without having to be able to see, she slips the glowing article delicately into the felt lined indentation inside a simple box. The container is exactly the size necessary to contain the treasure without allowing for any excess as it was built specifically for this purpose, constructed in secret by the woman who has possession of it.
She runs her fingers along the surface, carefully tracing the outline of the cracks with the softest of touches. Once finished with her sentimental routine, she gently closes the two doors that secure the mask inside its recess with felt lining the walls as well. After which, there is only a simple latch to hold it shut, but no lock is employed.
The woman takes in a further breath before rising from the lotus position with the expert grace of a lithe dancer. She takes a good, long stretch and reaches down as she retrieves the box from the floor with a fluid flourish. This she squeezes against her bosom like a cherished friend before giving it a simple kiss.
With her eyes still closed, she uses her sense memory to navigate the interior of the apartment as she makes her way to her bed, tucked into the corner of the room, opposite her roommates. She folds her legs to the lowest point and slips the box comfortably out of sight. After which, she rises with practiced fluidity and traces her way to the bathroom.
It isn't difficult to locate the place for the more discreet, daily activities since it is one of only two other rooms. Such is the layout for the quaint, little, three room apartment that was designed for the cohabitation of no more than two people. These are the shared quarters of those who have dedicated a small portion of their life to the furtherance of their education.
She enters the confined quarters, expertly navigating every little obstacle that she should come across. She strips herself of the simple bodysuit that she wears in place of more traditional pajamas and the even simpler set of underwear. Naked as the day she was born, minus the many tattoos that she has covering her body, she enters the shower.
She turns the tap to as cold as it will go and endures the shock of the sudden, freezing water against her bare skin. Such is her common practice to ensure that she wakes up fully and is completely alert for the days required tasks. She doesn't lather herself with any soap as she is not dirty for having showered the previous evening. This is merely her wake up call.
The woman dries herself thoroughly and wraps the towel tightly around her body as she collects her discarded garments and exits the bathroom. Back in the main thoroughfare, her first stop is the hamper that stands near to her bed, where she deposits the worn articles for wash day. Next, she takes to her bed and slides out her collapsible bureau from under it.
It is a simple design meant to conserve space and it serves this purpose well. She pulls the unique piece of furniture to standing and easily finds a proper outfit even without the use of her eyes. Not difficult, considering that it all follows the same dull palette and thus, everything goes with everything else. She dresses herself and returns things back to their original state.
Now properly attired, she navigates her way to the kitchen where she flips on the overhead light and opens her eyes. She does so because the kitchen being the most shared area makes it the most chaotic, and no one can say whether things will still be where they are meant to be. Luckily, things haven't been disrupted too much and she finds exactly what she is after.
She takes hold of a large bowl and a small variety box of instant oatmeal. She chooses the peaches and cream flavor and grabs two packets. She adds just enough water to cook up the oats and employs a microwave to heat up the concoction. She pours herself a tall glass of milk and sits herself down with a heavy text book.
The food is soon ready and the woman chows down while simultaneously ingesting the information contained within the thick book. She is deep into another long paragraph when her attention is split for a third time when she hears a ring of keys hit the floor of the hallway just outside of the front door.
"Dan' it!" the woman on the other side slurs drunkenly as she stoops and retrieves the means to enter the locked entry and inserts the metal article as she releases the latch and opens the obstacle which creaks. "Dan' it Mable!" Her hand searches for the lightswitch and flips it on. "Can' ya thin' 'bout da res' of us fur once? Ya kno', da res' of us aren' bats. We can' see in dar'."
"Hello Marie," the woman at the table speaks up without looking away. "How was the sunrise party?"
"It was the besht," the other woman responds as she crashes into the table. "Ya shou' been thar. It wa' so bea'iful."
"And what about the Janelle and Marion issue?" Mable enquires while keeping focus on her book. "Has it been resolved?"
"Oh, be'er than tha'," Marie slurs further as she crashes into a chair while keeping her head from hitting the table. "Thar I was, up agains' a tree, w'en Marion sat hi'self down on my righ' and Janelle on my lef'. They bo'h jus' stare at each ot'er an' t'en a' me. I jus' hook der heads an' pull dem toget'er 'fore kissin' each of t'em, righ' on lips. Lon' story shor', we're a couple, I mean thruple."
"Let me guess, you completely ignored the elephant in the room," Mable predicts and put a hand to her friend and roommate's own, but did not split her focus. "And it seems you just got drunk instead."
"Wha' room?!" the drunk girl erupts and smashes her free hand against the table. "We were ou'si'! An' wha' el'fun'?! Bu' yes, we celebra' wit' plen'y of alc'hol."
Mable turns her complete focus to the other woman. "Marie, I love you, but you are the worst when it comes to speaking the truth," the studious one addresses her friend and takes hold of the other hand. "Marion and Janelle are going to find out that you've been seeing both of them, at the same time, behind the other's back. And I don't think they are going to appreciate it, not even being made part of a thruple after the fact."
The inebriated young adult shakes her head. "Yu jus' thru a lo' of wor's at me, an' I can' proce' it righ' now," she sputters almost incoherently and tilts her head as she closes an eye. "Don' wurry, dey bo'h love me, they'll un'erstan'."
"I hope you're right," Mable persists in a non-committal fashion as she gives a squeeze and returns to her book. "You just shouldn't lie to them anymore."
"I never lie!" her roommate snips back with complete coherence and crosses her arms. "I jus' ge' littl' crea'iv' wit' da truf." She lowers her arms as she yawns. "Wha' time 's it?" Her eyes go wide. "We're goin' be late for class!" She leaps to her feet and knocks her chair to the floor.
Mable heaves a sigh. "You are always exaggerating, Marie" she accuses her friend while maintaining her focus on her textbook. "Class doesn't begin for another half hour. And since it only takes ten minutes to get across campus, this leaves us with twenty minutes to play with." She returns to her breakfast comprised of both regular and brain food.
"You'lll be glad fur my exagge'ations," the other, young woman insists as she picks up her chair which sets her slightly off balance, but she's able to just recover.
Mable assists with the chair and helps her friend out of the kitchen. "I know, I know, 'when unforeseen circumstances crop up and sap me of my time', she recites from memory the oft spoken phrase of her roommate as she helps her into her bed. "But for now you should get some rest. I'll tell the professor you're ill, which isn't far from the truth."
"No, I gotta… I can'... You hav' to," the drunk woman protests as she struggles to get up, but her friend keeps her down with a single hand on her forehead. "They won' le' me skip ano'her class."
"Really Marie, these exaggerations are getting so that they are nearly lies unto themselves," the young woman points out the inconsistency as she settles her friend on the bed. "Neither of us is in any danger of losing our scholarships. Speaking of which." She fishes her roommates cellphone out of her pocket. "Hi Simon. No, this is Mable. Yes. Yes. I'm calling to inform you that Marie is not feeling well. She… Yes. She is still staggering. I don't feel comfortable leaving her alone. Please understand… You do? Okay. Don't worry, I'll be sure she reads the chapters. Yeah. Yeah, I already read them. I know, I know, I'm an overachiever. What? For the last time Simon, I'm not after your job. I just like to learn. What? Okay. Thank you. Thank you. I owe you one. I… Simon. Simon listen to me. I just… I can't… What? That's blackmail! You can't be serious. Fine. If you keep this absence off both our records… No, I said both. Right. Fine. Tonight, at the festival? That's a little late for me. Can't we… Okay. Okay, I'll make it work. Alright. Goodbye."
"Guess Simon go' tha' da'e af'er all," the woman in bed summarizes the end of the conversation as she lays her head down. "I don' feel so…" She pitches over the side and vomits on the floor, splashing her bile all over her roommates feet.
The other, young woman is disgusted by the putrescence covering her feet, but is relieved that her friend is expelling the toxin from her stomach, though she wishes she could have waited till she'd gotten her a bucket. Luckily, it's a hardwood floor as neither of them had put down a carpet, so it should prove easy enough to clean.
Her friend finishes the expulsion by spitting out what's left in her mouth. "Sorry Mable," she apologizes and allows her head to sink so low that her hair slicks the mess.
"It's okay Marie," the sober woman assures her as she lifts up her body and supports her weight. "Let's get you into the bath."
The drunk woman slurs something under her breath.
Mable assists her friend into the bathroom and carefully deposits her in the tub. She's just as careful to strip off her clothes and turns the tap to the hot, but not too hot setting. She tests the water with her hand several times before plugging the drain and letting it fill the recess till it is just beneath the ailing woman's lolling head.
The impromptu nurse remains by her friend's side, sitting on the side of the bathtub as she cleans off her hair. From that point on it is simply a matter of staying attentive to make sure she doesn't slip beneath the surface. A task easily accomplished and after roughly thirty minutes the recipient of all this attention twitches awake.
"Wazzat?!" Marie asks of no in particular as she looks about with wild eyes.
"How are you feeling?" Mable queries hoping to gauge how far she's recovered through her response.
"Like a million bucks, adjusted for inflation," Marie summarizes as she drops the slur from her speech and rises from the water, but starts to slip.
"Whoa there hoss," Mable breaks in as she takes hold of her friend by locking her arms around her torso so as to bypass the slipperyness of her wet body.
Marie reclaims her traction. "What would I do without you?" she asks though she's certain of the answer and gives a smile.
"You'd be fine," Mable assures her as she lets go and takes hold of a towel which she wraps around her roommate before helping her out of the tub. "I'm not the only good samaritan in the world."
Marie snuggles inside the towel. "You remind me so much of my mom," she reminisces while being led to her bed. "She used to wrap me up just like this and carry me to my bed."
Mable laughs. "Youre far too big for me to carry, I'm afraid," she remarks and sets her on the edge of her mattress as she helps her to dress in something comfortable to sleep and lounge in.
Marie chuckles right back. "Who you think you're foolin', miss muscles?" she points out as she lays herself down flat. "You could benchpress me easy. In fact I…" The rest is lost to incoherent mumbling as she slips into sleep.
Mable is not concerned at this time. She knows her friend will sleep it off in a couple of hours and be right as rain. Instead, she sets about cleaning up the floor and then returning to the kitchen, after leaving a bucket nearby, just in case. She finds the remains of her breakfast and scrapes into the garbage before cleaning the dish.