for beginnings

for things that are not what they seem

for blessings in disguise

As one would expect from Saturday mornings in December, it is raining. I suppose a moment of silence for those who have to get out of bed early today is in order. Luckily, I am not one of those unfortunate souls, My vigil extends into another few hours of sleep.

Something shakes me awake. "Mom," I groan, "it's a Saturday. Let me sleep. I don't care if it's 12 or 5 pm, leave me alone."

She shakes me again. Ugh.

"What do you want, Mom?" I open my eyes in irritation and find the world a blurry mess (I may have forgotten to take out my contacts last night). As I fumble around to retrieve my glasses and take these gosh-darned silicon implants out of my eyes, I hear a faint giggle.

That does not sound like my mom.

What did I do to deserve this terrible fate. Today is the day I die. I had a moment of silence for you people who wake up early and yet you still betray me? 

Like the idiotic girl I am, I slowly turn to face the beholder of the giggle. My eyes are scrunched together to delay the most likely horrible sight before me. Slowly, I take away my hands and peek.

It's a girl. She's got pigtails and a really big smile on her face that would be endearing if not for the fact that it's a rainy Saturday morning/afternoon and she's a stranger in my bedroom. "Boo!" she exclaims.

The scared little being in me awakes. I scream, scramble backwards, realize that that was an idiotic move if this pigtailed creature was a serial killer, and book towards the door. 

My hand fumbles with the door knob a bit and I curse myself for the first time in my 17 years for closing the door. I'm definitely listening to my mom now and keeping that stupid thing open. 

Once I'm out and the door is nicely slammed, I take a breather. Which if you think about it is a really bad move because it doesn't take that long to walk out the doorway and into the hallway I'm in. I'm not thinking though obviously so I'm given another fright of a lifetime when the girl pops up and says "Boo!"

I'm not ashamed of the shriek I let out once more because what can you do when there's this freaky girl saying boo to you and you just really want to go back to sleep and pretend this was a nightmare but it's not. 

I run down the stairs this time, grabbing my brother's skateboard along the way. I'm horrible at skateboarding but if I'm to learn to use it, today is better than any other day. 

Before I can head out the door, the girl is in front of me. 

"Wait, no, Ariel, stop!" she giggles. One hand is outstretched like a stop sign to me, while one is one her knee, supporting her as she laughs at my terror.

So like the idiot I am, I stop and take a closer look at her appearance. She appears harmless. But looks can be deceiving. Especially when she has super human speed and an affinity to appear in strangers' bedrooms. 

She also knows my name.

Well, shit.

As her giggle fest dies out, the inner freak-out within me only grows. Finally, she stops laughing. There are tears in her eyes and her cheeks are rosy red. She would be cute if not for the fact that she was in my bedroom. 

"I'm Clare," she says with a smile and an outstretched hand. It looks like she wants a handshake but for all I know she could suck my soul with such a deviously innocent gesture. So I eye the hand, ignore it, and ask her a question instead.

"Why were you in my bedroom?" 

It looks as though another giggle fest is going to occur because she's turning really really red and her hands are covering her mouth. At last, some laughs do escape from that treacherous device and I have to wait a few more minutes for her mirth to die down once more.

"OK, sorry, sorry, I'll be serious this time," she claims. Another giggle. "I'm Clare."

"I know. That doesn't explain why you were in my bedroom."

"Oh yeah huh, after introducing yourself to so many people, the conversations kind of blur into one another you know? Sorry. Uh I'm not entirely sure why I was in your bedroom?" She says it like it's a question, as though this is a test and she doesn't know if she got the right answer. But she also sounds like she has something to hide.

So I tell her, "That's not the correct answer."

And she pouts, crosses her arms, and defiantly declares, "Well, too bad that's all you're getting," followed by her sticking out her tongue.

Maybe I understand why she's wearing pigtails now because she's like a little five year old.

Then I remember that she wanted me to stop and I've already been stupid enough to stay near a serial killer for this long. Although I can't imagine someone with the heart of a five year old to be able to do much harm. "Yeah, well, I'm out of here." I don't bother to grab the skateboard because the thing would only hinder me in my speedy escape, now that I think about it.

"Wait no! Don't you have any other question?"

"No."

"Like how I know your name is Ariel?"

That makes me pause. "Spill," I tell her and turn to face her once again.

Her hands fumble together as she nervously glances at me. She sways around a bit and answers in that questioning tone, 
"Well, about that, I'm not sure either?"

I groan.

She waves her hands in a panicky way, "No, no, no, no, I have a better answer." I roll my eyes. A better answer? The only answer should be the truth. "OK so like it just popped up in my head? It's like I'm reading from a script, yeah! And this like mysterious force was like 'Clare, her name is Ariel so tell her to stop' so yeah!" She beams at me as though she expects me to believe that. 

I tell her exactly what I'm thinking, "You're nuts."

The pout, arm cross, and defiant voice routine starts again. "No I'm not, you're nuts." 

So I groan again.

I guess she doesn't like my groans because she backtracks. "No wait! Don't leave!" 

Wait, is that, vulnerability that I hear in her voice? Nice going, Ariel, you're going to have a serial killer cry in your living.

I sigh, "OK, Clare, just tell me the truth."

She scrunches her face and says, "OK there's a sign on your door that says Ariel so that's pretty obvious." 

I facepalm myself. Duh, leave it to me to give serial killers my name by accident.

"OK, that makes sense. Are you a serial killer?"

Clare giggles, "Oh my gosh, no! I would never! You think this face could kill? As if!" 

I shrug, "Makes sense. K bye."

She gapes at me, "That's it?"

I open the front door and gesture outwards, "Yep, please leave my house."

"But why?" She pouts.

I rub my forehead. There's a migraine that's about to explode in there. "You weren't even invited into my house in the first place."

"But," she tries to argue.

"Just go," I feel the ache and wince. 

She leaves. 

I grab some painkillers and swallow them dry. I've been guzzling these down for the past three years that the taste feels like relief. Even though I just woke up, my brain is completely ruining my mood so I head back to bed.