The Balloon is Prologue: 1
Author's Note
Marlene's POV
The Balloon is Prologue: 1
Apparently, my mother had brought Muffins home with her for breakfast, then promptly gave me a blue balloon. I later realised, it was matching the colour of her new nail polish. Not sure if it had any relevance, but it is curious, now in retrospect.
These Muffins are divine. I have no idea where she found them. Yet, I am uttermost certain, she has not baked them herself. Not so much; because she isn’t very good at baking, or the time it would take her to bake all these. The reason behind knowing it; is the quality, the taste of all the types of Muffins she served me. I have to admit, they are simply not of this world. Who ever baked them in the first place?
I had refused to admit, just how much these Muffins managed to fill me up. Maybe they simply tasted too good? I guess I have something of a weakness for these. Could you blame me?
Once I had finally left the table, I found myself walking up the stairs to my room. Once I had closed the door, I lie down on my bed, after I had placed that one balloon on my night stand. Seems the balloon had chosen to be something of a treasured trophy. Despite the fact that I never really had cared for these iconic items of worship before.
Hay, I love a good meal as much as the next girl, just as I love a good treat and pastries. What did you take me for, I am not a site, exactly. To a point, I am proud of being the next average girl. Even with my interests and passions.
I see the films, listen to music, love clothes, the common things for girls my age. Yet, I can love an hour or and afternoon, lazily resting on my bed. Maybe, just maybe this is one of these occasions.
Before I go into the shower, I cut my nails down short and file them smoothly. In my age, I guess long, fancy nails is not exactly the high fashion or priority, why bother? I cut them short and file them down, usually before the shower.
On my way to the shower, I walk to the wardrobe with its two double sliding doors. To the right, I have the washing bid, into which I throw my clothes as they need to be cleaned in order to be fresh. Once the door is open, I pull my top over my head and slip it onto the top of the pile in the bin. From there I continue by stepping out of my skirt and panties, kicking them up and slip them onto the pile, over the top. Then I finish by pulling my socks off of my feet, right and left.
With only a large towel wrapped around my body, I go to the door, open it and exit my room, before I close the door and go to the shower. Now I open the door and enter the small room and close the door behind me.
As I close and lock the door from within the shower, I slip the towel off of me and hang it up on the far wall, just to the right door into the shower. Now I open the inner door into the shower and step right in, placing both my feet on the shiny white tiles of the floor, before I close the glass doors behind me.
Once the doors are closed tightly, I push the button, thus starting the shower, feeling the warm water washing down gently over my head, then continuing down my face, neck, body and legs. The water keeps warming up lowly in order for me to adjust. The joy is just divine.
Aside from the controls of the shower, there is just the white tiles to see. They are a fluorescent milky white, and about half a floor, squares.
The sound of water hitting my body and the floor, teasing my ears. I shiver in delight of the experience. Just feeling all the clutter on my mind flows away with the dust from the day since I had the previous shower.
It is kind of like a gentle massage for the mind, just as much as it is for my skin, just lazily standing here, moving slightly in order for the water to caress my entire body.
I see the last of the water flowing down, pouring down the drain with the remainders of the dust and discomforts. With that, I am ready to walk back out. Opening the door, exiting and closing the door behind me. Now I pick up the towel, from where I left it and dry myself up, enjoying the teasing sensations from the soft fabrics as it dries me up. Minutes later I am completely dry. As I covered myself in the towel, I open the door to the hall and walk out, closing the door behind me and walk to my room. Once there I stop, just long enough to open the door before I walk in and close the door behind myself, once more.
Only now, the balloon gave me a strange idea, thus I forgo the notion to lock for clothes for tomorrow. I merely walk up to my bed, where I pick up the balloon, looking it over, curiously, with a wide grin on my face as I giggle.
Sitting quietly on the side of my bed with the balloon in my right hand, quietly slipping my left hand over the skin of my right and left foot, finding them both smooth enough to dare the suggested trick. I lift my right foot, slipping my toes into the opening of the balloon, then feeling my foot slowly sliding in with the toes, as if the balloons eagerly swallowed my foot. There is no real sense of pressure around my foot as I pull the balloon further up, all the way to my knee with any real difference.
Now I tentatively slip the left foot in along with the right, feeling the rubber slide over the skin as I keep pulling it upwards. I expect it to rip at any moment, but it stubbornly refuses to fail. All of a sudden. I realise it was sliding over my hips and onto my waist.
That isn’t possible. I almost gasp, thinking better of it. Maybe I am sleeping, dreaming of the balloon and the strange and highly unexpected gift. Accepting it as the only reasonable explanation, then following my action, pulling the balloon further up. As the balloon reached my rib-cadge, I slip my hands in, only to realise the balloon still refused to rip, while eagerly swallowing my hands and arms as well. Then it continues to flow upwards, over my shoulders, up my throat, only to stop just before my head.
I lie down, ignoring the quilt as I fall asleep as my head makes contact with the pillow, just where I left it, earlier in the morning.
For the moment, I just lie there, sleeping, but the time doesn’t count, I don’t feel it, and I certainly am not aware of it. What I am aware of, is that I wake up, still wearing the balloon, the very same balloon my mother gave me earlier in the day.
I slide the quilt to the side and push it up against the wall, just before I slide my feet down to the floor. Then I notice that I am no longer alone in the room, my room. Luna is standing before the door to the hall. Is she blocking me?
Woah. But wait, of course she had to be by the door. Where else would she be coming from? Besides, who else would be in the room? Just because I did not know her by name, or even know of her. Maybe that is the surprise in the first place, bordering on shock. Just never quite reaching the point.
Apparently, she is looking at me, as if she was waiting for something. Of course, it is me she is waiting for. How long she had been awaiting, waiting for me, I have no idea, but I don’t ask.
“Good morning!” she merely spoke as I set my feet on the floor.
“Good morning!” I echoed.
“My name is Luna Lulamoon, I am the Princess of the Night, sister of Celestia, Princess of the sun and day. Nice to see you!” she presented herself.
“My name is Marlene Ruby Trotter, and daughter of Anna!” I responded with a slight hint of a giggle.
“I see your mother Anna handed you the balloon, the gift from a certain Pinkie Pie who is a friend of the family. I could not have been with you, if she had not. The balloon is what opened the door to your room, as it were!” she pointed out.
“You mean the blue balloon I am wearing? Did Pinkie Pie give it to me? No regular balloon would even contain an entire girl, even as small as me. Princess of the Night? That is quite the honour on my pat. Interesting!” I put forth.
“Yes, that would be the one. Now, since you are all dressed up, we can get going. I am sure you are dying to see more!” she pronounced, pointing at the door in the other end of the room.
“Thank you for confirming it. As a matter of fact, yes. I am driven by both honour and curiosity, in this case. If you take the time to come and see me, who am I to back down and refuse now?” I responded, following her towards the new and unfamiliar door.
“Welcome to my world, of Ponies and Magic!” she put forth and opened the door as I got three steps from her.
