Psyche's Muses
entire worlds are in this head
When Deandria woke up that morning, the taste of salt was in her mouth.
She licked the roof of her mouth and swallowed, then stared with dark eyes at the off white ceiling. Her dreams were quickly slipping out of her mind like water through a sieve, and it was only bits and pieces that she could recall with varying degrees of success; a lampshade that followed her around a house that was more like a maze, eyes that popped up in random places and talked to her in whispered tones, and almost always a giant brown wave of water that she could never escape from as it surrounded and eventually drowned her. Sometimes, she couldn't even remember if she dreamed, and somehow those moments were better than the ones were she did.
The urge to sleep still rested heavily in her bones and made her feel glued to the bed, but the soupy and humid feel in the air guaranteed she wouldn't be able to rest her heavy eyes anytime soon. With the sun rising soon given the gray color of the sky, the heat and humidity would only get worse. She sighed quietly and turned her face to the left, almost laying in a suspended state of animation for what felt like hours as she watched the sun come up. Having lived in Pelican's Bay all of her life, the sight had never elicited any feelings of joy, and lately it was starting to make her feel a sense of bitterness and hatred for something beyond her current grasp of comprehension. When the first warm rays of the sun streamed in through her bed it was then that she decided to get up.
With a heave the bronze skinned girl tumbled out of bed and onto the dust covered floor. She grabbed the shirt that was closest to her and sniffed at it, not finding any outstanding odor. Quickly she yanked off her long sleeved sleeping shirt and swapped it out for the gray tank top that she had found, then got to her feet and rummaged around through the sheets on her bed for a pair of olive green skinny jeans. It had quite a few more rips and tears than when she first purchased it, but these were her favorite pair of jeans and it showed. Deandria didn't even bother looking for socks, considering the fact that she would most likely come up with mismatched ones, and instead slipped into a pair of combat boots that were certifiable veterans. They were still sturdy, but their age was starting to show: various scratches and even a gash on the bottom of the left one could testify for the terrain that they had been through. Having completed that part of her morning, the seventeen year old went out of her room and into the bathroom that was right next door. She flicked on the light, and instead of being greeted with the dark yellow light of the bulb, there was only darkness. She played with the light switch a few times, then groaned when the miraculous power of electricity granted her anything but light. She'd have to find a replacement bulb later, if there were any. On the bright side, the darkness hid the rather depressing sight of peeling paint and whatever happened to be crawling on the walls at the early hour.
With Deandria groping around in the dark, it took her an embarrassingly long time to locate her toothbrush and toothpaste, and an even longer time to uncap the tube and apply the paste to the ragged bristles of her brush. She turned on the faucet and brushed her teeth while she waited for the tap to throw up a pitiful amount of lukewarm water, then quickly rinsed out her mouth and splashed at her face as substitute for soap. She left, then sneaked past her parents' room before clomping down the stairs. She went into the kitchen and nearly screamed at the sight of a mouse on the floor. The mouse seemed just as petrified as she was, and the two of them engaged into a staring match for a while before the haggard creature scurried off and took solitude in the shadows. Her appetite for the last remaining Poptart ruined, she decided to go out and walk around as there was nothing else to do. There was no need for a jacket, but she still decided to take hers, as Pelican's Bay could occasionally be hit with a nasty thunderstorm at any given moment. She shrugged on the dark blue sweater and made sure her keys and wallet were in the pockets before exiting her house. An unintentional grimace crossed her lips as the humidity hit her full force, then subsided as the discomfort passed. She looked left and right, then took her familiar path through the all too familiar town, walking through the street as though it were a sidewalk. It was still early, and Sunday to boot; most stores wouldn't even be open for the day, and the town's inhabitants would only go church, then return to their air conditioned homes.
There wasn't much to do on a regular day, and right now the very real possibility of boredom hit Deandria full force. She groaned and regretted her decision to come out here, feeling as though she could have had a much better time in her sweltering room. Well, she was out here now; nothing left to do than to make the best of it. She had no phone to blast her music with as that had been left on her bedside table. But she still had her voice and she made do with that, walking down the sun lit street while belting out what few lines she knew of Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" without a care in the world. With no friends to visit and hang out with, it was only her in the stillness of world, and she made do with that just fine.
She licked the roof of her mouth and swallowed, then stared with dark eyes at the off white ceiling. Her dreams were quickly slipping out of her mind like water through a sieve, and it was only bits and pieces that she could recall with varying degrees of success; a lampshade that followed her around a house that was more like a maze, eyes that popped up in random places and talked to her in whispered tones, and almost always a giant brown wave of water that she could never escape from as it surrounded and eventually drowned her. Sometimes, she couldn't even remember if she dreamed, and somehow those moments were better than the ones were she did.
The urge to sleep still rested heavily in her bones and made her feel glued to the bed, but the soupy and humid feel in the air guaranteed she wouldn't be able to rest her heavy eyes anytime soon. With the sun rising soon given the gray color of the sky, the heat and humidity would only get worse. She sighed quietly and turned her face to the left, almost laying in a suspended state of animation for what felt like hours as she watched the sun come up. Having lived in Pelican's Bay all of her life, the sight had never elicited any feelings of joy, and lately it was starting to make her feel a sense of bitterness and hatred for something beyond her current grasp of comprehension. When the first warm rays of the sun streamed in through her bed it was then that she decided to get up.
With a heave the bronze skinned girl tumbled out of bed and onto the dust covered floor. She grabbed the shirt that was closest to her and sniffed at it, not finding any outstanding odor. Quickly she yanked off her long sleeved sleeping shirt and swapped it out for the gray tank top that she had found, then got to her feet and rummaged around through the sheets on her bed for a pair of olive green skinny jeans. It had quite a few more rips and tears than when she first purchased it, but these were her favorite pair of jeans and it showed. Deandria didn't even bother looking for socks, considering the fact that she would most likely come up with mismatched ones, and instead slipped into a pair of combat boots that were certifiable veterans. They were still sturdy, but their age was starting to show: various scratches and even a gash on the bottom of the left one could testify for the terrain that they had been through. Having completed that part of her morning, the seventeen year old went out of her room and into the bathroom that was right next door. She flicked on the light, and instead of being greeted with the dark yellow light of the bulb, there was only darkness. She played with the light switch a few times, then groaned when the miraculous power of electricity granted her anything but light. She'd have to find a replacement bulb later, if there were any. On the bright side, the darkness hid the rather depressing sight of peeling paint and whatever happened to be crawling on the walls at the early hour.
With Deandria groping around in the dark, it took her an embarrassingly long time to locate her toothbrush and toothpaste, and an even longer time to uncap the tube and apply the paste to the ragged bristles of her brush. She turned on the faucet and brushed her teeth while she waited for the tap to throw up a pitiful amount of lukewarm water, then quickly rinsed out her mouth and splashed at her face as substitute for soap. She left, then sneaked past her parents' room before clomping down the stairs. She went into the kitchen and nearly screamed at the sight of a mouse on the floor. The mouse seemed just as petrified as she was, and the two of them engaged into a staring match for a while before the haggard creature scurried off and took solitude in the shadows. Her appetite for the last remaining Poptart ruined, she decided to go out and walk around as there was nothing else to do. There was no need for a jacket, but she still decided to take hers, as Pelican's Bay could occasionally be hit with a nasty thunderstorm at any given moment. She shrugged on the dark blue sweater and made sure her keys and wallet were in the pockets before exiting her house. An unintentional grimace crossed her lips as the humidity hit her full force, then subsided as the discomfort passed. She looked left and right, then took her familiar path through the all too familiar town, walking through the street as though it were a sidewalk. It was still early, and Sunday to boot; most stores wouldn't even be open for the day, and the town's inhabitants would only go church, then return to their air conditioned homes.
There wasn't much to do on a regular day, and right now the very real possibility of boredom hit Deandria full force. She groaned and regretted her decision to come out here, feeling as though she could have had a much better time in her sweltering room. Well, she was out here now; nothing left to do than to make the best of it. She had no phone to blast her music with as that had been left on her bedside table. But she still had her voice and she made do with that, walking down the sun lit street while belting out what few lines she knew of Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" without a care in the world. With no friends to visit and hang out with, it was only her in the stillness of world, and she made do with that just fine.
