Life is okay. Nothing to praise, nothing to damn. Just, meh.
The only thing that can possibly tip the scale to that of hate would be the shrill scream of my alarm. Heaps of blankets that cocooned me did little to delay my action, which was taking the infernal device, yanking it from its outlet, and tossing it as far as my sleep drunk arm could take it. Happy that nothing but a clatter erupted from such an impulsive decision, I rolled out of my blankets and sat cross legged, still groggy. Mind slightly impaired, it took me awhile to retrieve my glasses sitting atop my corner desk. The world came into shocking clarity via medicated lenses, but at a price, my eyes blinded by a stray strand of yellow light pouring from the folds of the cheap plastic blinds that hid the sun. At least 99% of the time anyway.
Slightly irked, I hopped off my bed to feel the ice cold wooden panels beneath my feet, causing me to shiver explosively. Rubbing my arms, I looked over my shoulder at a small knob fixed torso level on the wall. Walking up to it, and upon closer inspection made me sigh with contempt.
Fuck you Evan.
Not wanting to dwell too long on my roommate’s odd temperature preferences, I turned the knob from the arctic thirty-two to a much cozier seventy-six. With the problem slowly rectifying, I went back around the bed and dug up a rubber band from a small bag fixed under my bed. With this red elastic band, I tied my shoulder length bronze hair into a simple pony tail, not wanting to go through to woes of fixing it up. It was a Saturday anyway.
My Saturdays were sacred to me and my sanity. Saving all the bullshit for Sunday, the end of the week was a chance for me to unwind from the bigger bullshit I dealt with on campus. Where I survive solely on energy drinks and very generous amounts of slaps across the face, delivered by no one but myself. Saturday was my day, a day where my apartment became a bullshit free zone. Evan was aware of this fact, as the telltale gunfire from his console was absent this morning. Probably out doing something that I didn't care enough about to ponder.
After a quick stretch, I made my way towards the kitchen. Or the corner devoted to such activity. Stomach rumbling, throat parched and mind dead, my plan was pretty straight forward. So, eggs were cracked, dropped into a sizzling frying pan. Brew placed into its filter and the appropriate machine. And the refrigerator raided for a nearly empty jug of milk.
Metal rod in my right hand and plastic handle in the other, I began my morning. Taking a generous gulp of the suspiciously sour-esque milk. I glance to my right for a split second and refer back to my sizzling orbs of fetal poultry.
Wait.
I placed the jug gently onto the counter and twisted to the right again. What had only been a blur before, something my mind quickly tossed into the rubbish bin, was now in full definition. And sitting on my white sofa. The lavender unicorn that sat there started right back at me, a nervous smile plastered onto her face. With it, seemingly my entire Saturday. We stared at each other for a few minutes, which seemed to be eons. I knew who this unicorn was, either from the show that spawned her or the fan base that worships the program. Though I never saw why such a large fan base was spawned by something so mundane, I enjoyed to watch it from time to time.
But I enjoyed my programs behind a glass screen, not muckin’ about through some magical, trans-dimensional or other, hopefully, scientific means on a Saturday.
The smell of charred eggs filled my nostrils, which I dumped in a pal beside me, not losing eye contact.
I could see her open her mouth to speak, but I raised my hand quickly. “No.”
She looked puzzled, and attempted to talk again, albeit futile as I said. “No. Noop!”
Thankfully that shut her up, leaving her a tad annoyed but compliant. Soon, I focused on my breakfast which was now resting at the bottom of the trash. Taking a quick glance at the milk jug, I retrieved a glass bowl and a box of cereal atop the fridge.
As I dug through one of the drawers for a spoon, the pony spoke. “Excuse me, I j-”
Not realizing what the spoon locked in my fingers would erupt, I quickly withdrew it and pointed it at the displaced being, silverware flying from the drawer and clattering to the the floor.
“Ssh! Just, SSH!”
This only provoked more confusion. “Miss, just-”
“SSSSSSH!” I hissed, making the pony cower slightly.
Satisfied I earned a bit of silence, I brought my rations over to the only sofa and sat next to the bewildered creature. Setting my bowl on my lap, cardboard box to the side and milk jug parallel to it, I retrieved the remote on the coffee table. Pressing POWER, I flicked through the channels until one of my liking came up. Setting the plastic box down, I began to serve myself.
To my dismay, she spoke again. “Can you just tell me where I am?”
Mouth full of frosted wheat and mind void of shits, I simply swallowed and watched my programming. The pestering didn’t subside.
“My name is Twilight,” she said, voice dripping with nervousness. “I don’t really know why I’m here, or where I am…” This continued for a good few minutes, ushering a response from me. A rather pissed response at that.
“Shut up,” I said sternly, avoiding eye contact. “Quiet. Silence. Is it that hard?”
“But why?” she continued to pester. “I’m something of an anomaly in your world I assume. Aren’t you surprised or concerned in the least?”
That seemed to strike a cord
“Look,” I set my bowl down. “I don’t care how many dimensions, universes, vortexes, or what ever you went through. This kinda shit happens in really, really lazy fan fiction. I’m not getting sucked into any of this what-so-fucking-ever, alright? This is my day. My day, get it?”
She looked incredibly confused at my level of concern and a tad appalled by my language choice. She was a fucking cartoon pony for christ's sake! I would only assume what ever the hell spawned this would balloon into something so convoluted, so pointless, and so lazy that it could threaten to consume my free time. Care was need elsewhere.
Still, this bitch had the audacity to open her mouth again. “I don’t get what you mean? Your day?”
My tolerance level had been passed a long time ago.
I slow turned to face her, face blank. “Know what trespassing is, Twilight?”
Befuddled, she replied. “Yes…”
“Well,” I said in a deceptively tender tone. “What you're doing right now, is the very definition of the word.”
Quick to defend herself, she blurted. “But it’s not-”
“Ssssshut the fuck up,” I hissed.
She was silent.
“Are you familiar with doors and their function, Twilight?” I asked, demoting her intelligence.
She glared at me, but the message was crystal. I could care less about who discovers her or what happens to her, just that she left me alone. So I was happy to be left alone, with my bowl of cereal and my television. This was my day, and MY day only.
Author's Note
Just some random idea that came to mind that I though would be funny. Hope you liked it! :)
