Pen Name: emg78
Rating: Teen
Pairing: ?
Title: Destination Unknown
The tolling bells ring loudly through my loft. The dark melody of "Hells Bells" bouncing off the exposed brick.
Slowly I stretch my legs and arms before arching my back like a cat lazing in the sun. I reach to my bedside table fumbling for my glasses. Then using one of the elastics permanently housed on my wrist I tuck my waist length hair into a messy bun.
My sleep had been anything but restful. My mind had raced with anxiety- inducing thoughts late into the night. I'm sure I tossed and turned once consciousness left me.
With a last stretch I flip off the black silk and red embroidered cover. Released from the warmth of the black silk sheets I feel the chill of anxiety nip at my extremities.
I shuffle the 20 feet to my kitchen, flipping the switch on the coffee maker. I continue to the door, cracking it open to grab the newspaper.
A few minutes later I'm curled up on a bar stool; giant cup of coffee in hand flipping through the local newspaper.
The thought of breakfast is fleeting, my anxiety bubbling quietly away. Probably best to skip, nothing will stay down anyway.
Done with the paper I pour a second cup of coffee before moving to my desk. Flipping open my laptop I sip slowly, waiting for it to start up.
I spend a few minutes reading and responding to e-mails. My mom, friends from back home. I print out the information I need for today. A shiver runs up my spine as the butterflies try to take off in my abdomen. I shake it off for now, realizing I need to get going if I plan on being on time.
I turn off the coffeemaker and give it a quick rinse along with my mug. A quick wipe of the counter and the kitchen is again in perfect order. I pull a stick of unsalted butter out of the fridge with the plan of comforting fresh baked cookies once I'm back home this afternoon.
I shuffle my feet back across my studio apartment. The comfort I feel being in my own space is not working like it normally does. I move through the closet, either side organized perfectly by my fashion-conscious friends. I step into the spa bathroom and feel my entire body sigh. This space is always a peaceful escape for me no matter what I'm dealing with outside these walls. I decide today requires a soak in the spa tub. It will have to be short but hopefully the affects will last for a while. As the water runs I pour in some vanilla scented oil and turn on my iPod which is docked with speakers on the counter. Within Temptations "The Swan Song" plays softly wrapping me in the feeling of power my favourite female singers fill me with. I hope to fill myself with all the confidence and strength I can leech from the music.
Soaking in the warmth of vanilla, I feel my anxiety shifting to anticipation. The warm tingle of lust appearing in my nether regions will have to be neglected for now. My body needing the release but time constraints preventing me from indulging it.
I rise out of the warm security provided by the bath. Towelling off, I take the time to moisturize every inch of my skin I can easily reach, the light touch of my hands and soft vanilla scent of the cream doing nothing to lessen my body's need for release, but calming the anxiety from earlier.
Tucking the large bath towel around myself I blow-dry my hair, fingering a calming cream through the long layers. I place large rollers in the almost dry hair to add just a little curl. A light layer of make-up follows the gentle taming of my locks. I am already beginning to stand a bit straighter, feel more confident.
I move to my closet, really just a hallway with open closet storage on either side. Either way it always feels romantic to me. I pull a black corset from a hanger. The outfit I plan on wearing doesn't need the support of the undergarment, but mentally I can use the feeling of being supported today. The matching lace boy shorts lay gently on my skin, causing the lustful warmth from the bath to continue its burn. Maybe not giving myself some love was the wrong decision? The lusty tingle isn't helping the anxiety already running through me. I wrap the corset around my torso, enjoying the cool silk against my skin. Reaching back I carefully secure the twenty eye-and-hook closures. The tight feeling of the boning provides a self-confidence which does not normally come from me. I stand straighter and exude sexy femininity. I sit on the small dressing stool in the corner of my closet, reaching into a drawer to pull out my thigh high nylons. I roll them gently up my smooth legs and enjoy the warmth of feeling sexy even if it is just for me at the moment. I secure the garter clips to the top, holding the nylons in place. Looking in my full length mirror, I find it hard to believe the reflection is me.
I pull down the a-line black skirt and deep blue blouse I plan on wearing today. Comfortable yet sophisticated, perfectly acceptable for what I need to do today. I slide the skirt up my hips, securing the zipper and buttons at the back. It fits snugly on my hips but flares to my knees. No chance of anyone catching a glimpse of anything. The blouse has ¾ length sleeves and a low v neckline. I put on my necklace, the ring of black onyx hanging just above my cleavage. My right wrist is wrapped in a black leather cuff. I wear the same jewellery everyday and the consistency of it gives me a little calm for today.
I walk back into the bathroom, taking out the rollers and running my fingers through my hair to loosen the curls a little. A little touch-up of my lip gloss and I move to my front room.
One look around and I have no excuse to procrastinate further. A deep breath and I pick up the directions I printed out earlier. I slip on my healed knee high leather boots. Again, my clothing helps to make my outer demeanour seem more together then my anxiety-riddled insides.
I slip on my leather jacket and grab my purse, exiting the apartment quickly before I can change my mind.
It's a quick walk down to my parking spot. I slide into the driver's seat of my black VW beetle, trying to push away the urge to run back and lock myself in my apartment. The thumping of Nine Inch Nails belts from the speakers as I pull out of my parking spot.
At each stop light, every turn, my heart rate increases. My knuckles slowly turn white around the steering wheel. The confidence I built up getting ready is slowly slipping away. I feel the anxiety rolling around in my stomach, thankful that I decided against eating anything.
I try counting to ten really slowly.
I try taking deep controlled breaths for a full two minutes.
I try every damn thing I can think of to calm down.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, makes a particle of difference.
My anxiety starts to peek as I turn into the parking lot. I find a parking spot not too far from the front of the building. I grab my purse and force myself out of the car quickly. I know if I hesitate for a moment I won't be able to move.
The building is unmarked. A non-descript grey brick warehouse. A few doors have names of companies in small print across the glass. The door I walk to has nothing but a number. No hint of what awaits the individuals who pass through. I hesitate for the briefest moment, questioning why I even left the comfort of my small loft. A voice in my head reminds me I had to come. This is where I need to be.
One last brush of my hands down my clothes. One last time I straighten my hair. I take a large steadying breath and release it slowly before reaching out to grab the handle.