Fear Cuts Like A Blade, Tiffany Bauer [digital book reader .TXT] 📗

was in the process of remodeling and looked the likes of something out of a horror movie. Okay, maybe not that bad. But close enough. The walls were bare and without character. the soon-to-be sink was just a cabinet.The bath and toilet hadn't yet been put in. The mirror was mounted on the wall but without trim.
I quickly slipped into my new outfit. Looking in the mirror I squelched a grimace at my appearance. I knew I didn't look great but I wasn't prepared to look quite that bad.
My long half curly, half straight blonde hair was loose, falling half way down my back. My blue eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. The cut I had gotten in the cat fight between me and Josie had almost healed. And to top it all off, my teeth were crooked.
The faded jeans were a little long, bunching on the inside of my boots. The shirt reached just below my dark brown leather belt but clustered above my black and silver belt buckle tjhat had 'Rebel Without A Cause' written on it in a cursive design via shiny gemstones.
I walked out of the bathroom and turned left towards the front room. Just before I got to the couch Kate burst through the door, half her supplies stacked sky-high in her arms and went straight to the kitchen. Searching the couch cushions for the one thing I could never find, my mind rooted out other spots it might have been hiding. Just as I decided it wasn't in the couch Kate came through the kitchen doors.
"Wassup homes." She said as way of greeting.
I gave her a nod and smiled wide when I saw her hair-do.
"Don't say it. Don't even think it. I know what you're smiling about and it's not funny." My smile only widened " It was funny when she did it to you. But now she's doing it to me. And it's not at all funny. We both look like Princess Layla from that stupid Star Wars movie, dammit."
I looked beyond her and burst out laughing at the sight.
"What did you just say?" JJ said, eyes narrowed to slits, from behind Kate.
JJ was hands on hips and looked madder than a hornet whose nest had just been sprayed. I looked back at Kate and couldn't help but laugh harder. Her eyes were bugged out so much I thought they'd fall out of their sockets.
"It's hard work puttin' your hair up to look like Princess Layla, but you know what? I still do it, just so you don't have to. And if I don't get some respect for that I'm gonna cut you off that fudge you love so much" JJ said, eyes still narrowed, her country ways showing through the city slicker facade she'd built up over the years.
Kate desperately mouthed the word 'help' to me.
"This is your problem, Kate. You said it. Not me." I told her as I did a hands up You're-on-your-own gesture.
"You don't even know Princess Layla," Kate said as a defense.
JJ walked around the couch to stand in front of Kate and probably give her an entire speech as to why she should appreciate JJ's help and accept the 'future trend'.
Keeping her eyes on Kate, JJ said to me, " And Taylor, I told you to go. Now go. Your jackets in a heap by the door as usual. I'll see you later."
We had made a pact when we were little kids to never ever say goodbye. Because when you said bye it sounded to permanent as if that was the last time you'd be talking to that person. Only when we were in big trouble did we say goodbye, and even then it was only meant as a warning.
I turned to go but was stopped by a familiar tap on the shoulder. " Here. You left this on my bike the other day. If I don't call you in a half hour, start with JJ." Kate said, handing me the object I'd been looking for in the couch.
I turned again and walked to the door. Sure enough, looking down, I saw my black NASCAR sweatshirt laying on the floor. I picked it up and slung it over my shoulder like a bag. MY BACKPACK!
Relieved that I'd remembered it, I ran down the hall to the bathroom where I'd left it moments ago. I picked it up with my free hand and slung it over my shoulder, still holding it by the strap I sprinted out of the bathroom and down the hall.
I opened the door and, stepping out, almost jumped out of my own skin when I heard Ms. Benlry sing out "Hello, my darlin'. Hello, my darlin' girl."
Ms. Benlry was a nice lady with long white hair she kept down and bright blue eyes that could see through anyone. So when I looked up at her I absolutely had to smile.
"Can't sleep?" I asked, truly concerned.
She'd gotten her high cheek bones and Native skin tone from her Indian ancestors. She smiled warmly, flashing me pretty white teeth, and shook her head. "No. None of my remedies are working. I don't understand why." In the four days I'd spent in the new apartment, there wasn't a one she didn't wear a dress.
This evening, it happened to be white with ruffles from the waist down. The ruffles showered over a pair of flat white sandals styled with a pink flower on the top. The pearl neckless that hung elegantly around her slender neck matched the pearl earrings dangling lightly from her ears. "Have you thought about it?" She wanted to know.
"About what?" I asked her.
"You know. It."
"Oh. That it. Yeah, I've been thinking but I still don't know."
"Well, your only nineteen, you still have the rest of your life ahead of you."
"I know. But whatever it is I want to start ASAP."
Her eyes sparkled as she laughed softly.
"I remember when I was your age. I felt the exact same way."
I sighed, remembering my childhood. At age six I had wanted to continue the family business of farming. Age eight I dreamed of being a singer. I still had the notebook full of songs I had written. Then, when I turned eleven I wanted to be a waitress. Fifteen I'd hoped to one day be in some kind of law enforcement like CIA or FBI or Texas Ranger.
Then when I started thinking about it, like really think about it, I decided I wanted to go into the army. My dad had thrown a fit when I told him. The pain I thought I had rid of came back in an instant. The words said, The things done. It still hurt.
"Well, I better get home. I need to start dinner. I'll see you tomorrow Taylor."
The words snapped me out of the trance I hadn't been aware of. I nodded my head at her and walked down the hall to the stairs. I live on the second floor of an old five-story apartment building with little landscaping. The carpet was oriental in shades of red and gold. The walls were white on top and yellow on bottom, separated by an oak trim board.
I trotted down the stairs to the lobby. Stopping on the bottom step I looked out the front glass doors and saw Krener street, busy with five 'o' clock traffic. The back door led to Sugarcane Boulevard, only a few pedestrians on the sidewalk.
I chose to go through the back door, where the parking lot was. The outside was basically brick, mortar, and blacktop. The hedge was recently trimmed, morphing them into unique, one of a kind shapes. A small rock fountain was positioned in the corner of the building and an eight-foot chain link fence. The idea was to have a front stoop along the wall, looking out over the fountain and greenery.
Instead, there was a hedge along the street, a fountain in the corner and a concrete pad for a porch. Not the best, but not the worst, either.

 

 

Tip Of The Iceberg

I started down the sidewalk, window shopping as I went. Brightly colored ads were stuck on the inside of the windows for countless items. 2 Pizzas for only $5, Buy any 1 Tide get a second free!, Movie bargain $1 a movie, 20% off any purchase of ladies' shoes.
I stopped by a light post and dropped my backpack on the concrete walkway. I slipped into my sweatshirt and pulled the reflective sunglasses from my bag. Sliding the Oakleys on I remembered my iPod and earphones. After zipping up the bag, I turned on the black iPod and tapped the music icon.
I went with Thunderstruck by ACDC and started humming along. I was interrupted by a loud roll of thunder that rattled my brain. I looked up into the dark clouds just as the sky broke, sending rain down fast and hard.
In the seconds it took me to run across the street, the pouring rain had already soaked through my jeans and sweatshirt, making my T-shirt damp. Holding my hands above my head (as if that was going to stop the rain from hitting me) I ran through the nearest door.
I was welcomed by the ding of a bell hanging from the door handle and the sweet smell of sugary treats. The girl behind the counter looked a little frightened so I pulled the hood on my jacket down.
Well, I thought, At least now I don't have to worry about my hair being staticky. Since it was plastered to my forehead instead.
I looked around the little shop, taking everything in. The small Formica tables were red as was the vinyl bench seats that accompanied them. The linoleum floors were black and white and worn from years of continuous use.The register looked as if it could have been an extra prop from The Waltons.
Tubs of frosting sat upon a wire rack against the left wall, in front of the counter. To my right was another wire rack stuffed full of packaged loaves of bread and rolls. a wide variety of sweetmeats sat stacked in rows inside glass showcases on top the counter.
Chewy chocolate squares. Soft Caramel bars. Cream filled donuts. Glazed donuts. Cheesecakes of many flavors. Marble swirl cakes. Tapioca pudding cups. Chocolate Chip Cookies. Peanut butter cupcakes. Rasberry filled cannoli. Blueberry muffins. Cosmic Brownies. Vanilla Twinkies. Banana cream pies. Cheese danishes. (I'm seriously making myself hungry right now)
I judged the girl behind the long wall-to-wall counter to be in her late teens to early twenties. Her shoulder-length brown hair had thick pink streaks through it bringing out her hazel eyes that were framed by purple rimmed glasses slowly sliding down her slender nose. Looking at her name tag, I found her name was Olivia.
My boots tapped and squeaked as I walked up to the area below the Order Here sign hanging from the ceiling by small rusted chains. I stopped abruptly to observe the large menu on the back wall.
As I read, the humming of a blender drifted out to me through an open door. A series of noises that sounded quite like an oven door opening and closing came next. So, I thought to myself, They do make everything in-store. Just like the ad in the window had said.
I