An anonymous reader submitted the words: "contradiction, answers, and fantasy world" to incorporate into my fictional character's world. Thank you very much anonymous for participating.
Belinda McBloggings and her Miss Adventures
Written By: Christina Paul
© Christina Paul All Rights Reserved to Impulse Imagination
The alarmed blasted Belinda out of a deep sleep. Mildly disoriented, she slapped around her nightstand for where her snooze button usually was. Reality had once again rushed into replace her vivid dream world. She opened her eyes to have the red, digital numbers from her alarm imprint on pupils. 6:45AM. Begrudgingly and with little red spots that resembled the number six-hundred and forty-five clouding her vision, she was finally able to drag herself out of bed with fifteen minutes to get to the school bus. Without even a thought of showering, her blue jeans and black tank top from the hamper was molded back on her body. She quickly ran a brush threw her hair, threw on her favorite tattered and worn leather jacket, grabbed her book bag and trotted down the stairs. She didn’t even bother at glimpsing in the direction of her mother as she walked out the door. As her mother heard the door close behind Belinda, she let out the small, disheartened sigh that she had been holding in. They hadn't exchange a single, friendly word in weeks.
Katrina McBloggins, Belinda’s mother, barely knew her own daughter anymore. Belinda was like a ghost now-a-days, a completely different person altogether. The shell that resembled her beautiful baby girl in appearance often retreated to her own little fantasy world and lashed out at anyone or anything that tried to call her back into the brinks of reality. Katrina returned her attention to her book, burrowing her nose deeper into her newest how-to-parent-through-the-adolescent-years book, to seek the answers she been looking for because she really did not know how to deal with her daughter anymore. She was at her wits end with her daughter and her obscured recently developed behavior. Maybe it was just as simple as boy trouble or drama at school that was driving Belinda act out the way she had been lately. Hopefully, her daughter was not pregnant or had a drug addiction like the teenagers Katrina watched on her talk shows. If Belinda would just talk to her without picking a fight, it would make life so much easier. Katrina rubbed her temples and wished that David, Belinda’s father, was still alive now more than ever. He would have know exactly how to deal with her. Belinda might look like a younger version of Katrina on the outside with her long, raven colored hair, baby blue eyes and pouty lips but she was definitely her father’s girl, through and through, on the inside; a female mirror image of her father, as far as personalities went. Sometimes, it was almost creepy how similar their little personality quirks and behaviors matched to a fault. Just like her Father she was not going to be ready to talk about anything until she was good and ready. A little tear escape the corner of eye as she thought of her late husband. No matter how much time passed by, she always ended up with tears streaming down her cheek when she thought of him. She had loved that man dearly. Her marscara ran under her perfectly applied eyeliner. The mask she applied to help her get through the day. She silently scolded herself, Life wasn’t fair though and she was on her own now and it’s not like David could help her now, God rest his soul, no use dwelling on it. As much as she needed him, just to be there, he’d been sent six feet under over three years ago by a repeated drunken driver. Anger instantaneously replaced her grief as she focused her thoughts on that bastard who had reduced their once happy family to the shambles it was in now; he walked free three months after the whole incident and was still legally allowed to drive. Katrina put her book down on the counter and tried to collect herself before she had to go to work. She was driving herself crazy lately, cycling through too many strong emotions in short bursts of time. It was emotionally exhausting, maybe she’d pencil in some time with a shrink.
Ice sheets covered the sidewalks making the task of walking harder than it should have been. Belinda barely felt the chill as walked the few blocks down towards the bus stop. The smell from the fresh baked goods, courtesy of the bakery across the street, floated gently on winter winds, wafting around her body and settling into her nostrils. Her stomach rumbled loudly and a passerby stopped to stare at her as he walked by. She could have sworn that you could hear the knots in her stomach form. Belinda hated it when people stared at her. Every time she left the house lately she’d been getting more and more anxious. It felt like more and more people stopped to gawk at her lately. She could feel their eyes upon her skin and it gave her the heebie jeebies. Belinda wished she would have remembered to eat breakfast this morning. Then maybe that stranger wouldn’t be staring at her right now. Forgetting about the stranger and focusing in on her hunger pang, she was absolutely ravenous suddenly. Belinda tried to recall the last time she had ate something and came up blank. She still had five minutes to spare before the bus came. Belinda let her stomach guide her to the closest morsels of food. Following her nose across the street to the bakery while she convinced herself she had the time and wouldn’t miss the bus if she stopped and ate. Soon she found herself sitting in a corner by herself and ignored life for a few moments while she got lost in her coffee and bagel. Her hunger successfully sedated for the time being she felt better. Belinda grabbed up her book bag and slurped down the last drips of coffee before heading back on track to catch the bus.
Belinda lowered her eyes and let a piece of her long, greasy black hair fall in place to shield her from their stares. Her skin started to burn as she felt her blood heat and her heart quicken. Everyone seated on the left side of that damn yellow school bus was staring and laughing at her as she watched it drive by. Almost in slow motion to drag the moment of humiliation out. It was going to be another long day. If her mom messed with her alarm clock to make her late again, there was going to be hell to pay. It was bad enough getting on the bus to actually go to school let alone watch everyone on the bus laugh at you because you missed it. Her eyes watered and burned as tears started to form but she laughed instead. Fine, if they didn't want her to go to school; she wouldn't. She was getting really tired of that scene anyway. Over the course of her first semester of senior year she had all but dropped out anyway; her great C+ average slipped down to F's, her so-called circle of friends laughed and snickered about her behind her back and she had withdrawn from all of her extracurricular activities because they no longer appealed to her. It only took a matter of seconds for Belinda to convince herself that there was nothing in this town that she needed. She had made up her mind; she was going to get a fresh start in a new city, someplace far from here.
It was just time to move on, Belinda thought to herself as she threw her bag full of school books into the nearest trash can with as much force as she could. A metal clang rang out echoing into the air as the book bag hit empty metal trash can. Belinda didn't feel a thing as she watch the trash can sway from the force of impact; people got GED's all the time and were still able to make a living, she whispered to herself. Still shielded by her hair, she walked the few blocks home and climbed up the tree to her window on the second story of their Victorian suburb so her Mother wouldn't know she had come home. After she pulled herself through the window, she ran as quietly as she could to lock her bedroom door. Her mother usually left the house at 7:30AM and she didn’t want her to come barging into her room to snoop around and find her there. Her mother wouldn’t understand and just drag her back to school and make her stay if she found her home. She was all by herself and it was up to her to figure things out from here. It was just time to go. She’d be eighteen in a few months anyway. Even though Belinda used to be very close to her mother she just couldn’t talk to her anymore. Strangely, she felt very indifferent about that. Belinda had figured out that her mother had been spying on her and lying to her every opportunity that her mother got. Then her Mother had the audacity to deny it when Belinda had finally confronted her about it. Contrary to whatever they believe, she knew better, Belinda randomly thought to herself. She may have been born at night but she wasn’t born last night. She knew her room was no longer safe and probably rigged with one of those nanny bears and the video feed was downloaded to some application on her Mother’s new iPhone. That was probably why her mother had been so excited to finally get the newest one. It probably made it easier for her mother to upload and sell the video feed online to pay for her expensive make up. That is why she wasn’t even going to leave a note. Her mother would find out through the videos. Belinda just hoped the delay in the video feed was long enough to allot her enough time to get the hell out of this place. Silently she moved about her room, trying to stick to the shadows. Even though it was well past 7:30AM and no one was home now; she didn’t know where the camera were placed. She wanted to make sure that she put enough distance between her and the house before her mother was alerted to anything suspicious. Belinda froze in place to take a minute to listen for any sounds of stirring in the house. Then she returned to recovering all the cash she had stashed all throughout her room just in case a moment like this arose. It took about a half hour to recover everything and she still wasn’t sure that she had it all but she had five-hundred and seventy-three dollars. That should be enough to get her out of this no-where town and get her through until she could get a job somewhere. Belinda dug around the closet for a suitcase. She ended up packing a week’s worth of cloths into her old cheerleading duffle bag before heading down the stairs to raid the kitchen for some supplies.
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