I guess I fell asleep that night, after all. I was still in my big t-shirt in my hard bed in my little apartment. Everything was the same, including the smell of my pillows; they both let off the scent of my fruity shampoo. And I checked the whole apartment, even in Liz's room. My roomie was out cold on her floor. I decided to be nice and throw a blanket over her bare shoulders. Then I was back to giving the place the CSI treatment, to no avail. Everything was the same!
Last night's weird occurrences started to seem like nothing but a dream, and as I ate some Cheetos for breakfast, I decided to think of it as just that. I showered, then changed into tight black leggings and a baggy white t-shirt that advertized for "The Rolling Stones" and hung off my thin shoulders perfectly, and straightened my wet hair. After dabbing some eyeliner on, I grabbed my bag and headed out of the apartment. It was only elven in the morning.
"What in the hell am I going to do today?" I asked myself. It was Sunday. The club would be open today, but I didn't have work. I walked around aimlessly, until I found myself outside a long gray building. It was a book store. "Huh." I said to no one in particular, and entered the huge store. There were shelves upon shelves of books, as well as a tiny coffee stand and a music section, which is were I walked first.
I had a sudden flashback of a younger me in a empty chorus room with a worried teacher. "Christine, you have such talent! You can't just quit singing!......This is because of the accident, I know. But you can't let that tragedy keep you from singing forever. I can help, if you want to talk."
Then me, deadly answering, "You think I'm quitting because my family's dead? I'm sorry to ruin your little fantasy drama, I don't want to talk to you, there's nothing to even talk about. I'm just done, and its a waste of time to be in a useless elective class when there's other stuff to do. I don't just don't want to have to deal with this right now!"
She had looked so hopeful when I had agreed to have a meeting with her after school, then I had said that. I blinked away the dumb memory and headed over to the section that was sure to have the CD I wanted, Led Zeppelin's Mothership. I grabbed it and some new green ear buds, then checked out, completely skipping the books. Its not like I read much anyways. After grabbing a coffee, black like always, I was out in the cold autumn air again. "So bored...." I sighed to myself. I pulled out my CD and began to read the label, sipping the bitter beverage, and humming my favorite song off the album in anticipation. I returned back to the apartment, it was silent.
"Lizzie, I'm home!" I shrieked in the way of old sitcoms, and stumbled over to my room, where the sound system resided. Popping in the new CD, I turned the volume up high and danced back into the tiny kitchen, singing to "Whole Lotta Love." Liz had still not emerged from her bedroom. I simply decided to be as obnoxious as possible and so banged into her bedroom. It was empty. "Oh." I said to no one in particular. I actually felt disappointed that my older friend wasn't around for me to annoy. I was alone.....and bored....
I went back into room and put all of my energy into listening to the music. Once the Cd finished, I went into the living room and watched a movie called "Taken." Then I watched Shrek Two. When it finished, I stared up at the ceiling. My life was so ridiculous, I thought. If I didn't want to work or party, I had nothing to do. I listened to the CD again, dusted off my glass bottle collection and danced like no one was watching. Only two hours had gone by after that. I was bored and restless. Utterly. I grabbed my bag and left the apartment with no plans. I let my high-heeled feet guide me, and soon boarded the subway. With my feet still in command, I ended up at the dressing room in Heat.
Liz and some other girls were there,smoking cigarettes and who knows what else. I dropped my bag onto the table and plopped down into a chair.
"Wow, Lotte. You couldn't take a break from work even one day?" A slutty dancer I had no particular fondness for mockingly asked.
Another girl, whose company I actually enjoyed cut it, "Ally, don't be a bitch. But Lotte, you should take a break...Even God didn't work seven days of the week." There was some snickers after she said that, because she really meant it and it was funny to hear a stripper try to preach.
"Yeah, God took a break. But maybe the world wouldn't be so fucked up if he didn't." I said this somewhat jokingly while browsing for an outfit to wear from the closet. Kate, the lead dancer, entered the crowded room, took stock of the girls and yelled at everyone to get ready. I got dressed into a purple bikini, with a tiny black fishnet cover and matching stilettos that laced up to my thighs. Then I quickly grabbed a ciggy and smoked while applying the rest of my make-up.
I entered a stage that had three poles and a swing. Two naked girls were already swirling their bodies on the poles. I slid along the other pole while finishing the cigarette, and when it was nearly finished, I sank down and placed it into an eager guy's mouth. Then I pranced over to the swing and pulled off the fishnet cover, tossing it out into the dark club. For the next few hours, I danced and felt and drank.
When Liz and I got home, I showered then went straight to bed. When my head hit the pillow, I was out. I woke up twice that night. The first time, I thought the stranger was back in my bed. The second time, I had been having a dream about a character my dad would tell my about as a kid.
The Little Lotte stories were one of the only things my father would share about his childhood in Sweden. Little Lotte was beautiful, sweet, and talented. I had hated her as a child. She had seemed like a do-gooder who had no brains of her own. Little Lotte somehow always had adventures without hurting herself or others. But as much as I hated her, I would always end up listening to stories about her. Because her heart was so pure, Little Lotte would be visited by the Angel of Music every night. He would sing to her sleep, and to hear his voice was to be granted a talent. Whoever was visited by the Angel then had amazing musical abilities. Little Lotte was different because the Angel would sing to her every night, and would be her invisible protector. The Angel had a perfect voice, and was caring, and yet witty. Because of his visits, Lotte had a perfect voice too. The stories always ended with how Lotte and her Angel lived happily ever after.
The dream I had featured Little Lotte and the Angel. When I woke up with a start, I had tears on my face. I brought one hand up and disgustedly wiped them away. I couldn't help but remember my family's death, then how I had died after that, then moved to New York to change. How I had started calling myself Lotte, the name of something I hated because I couldn't even recognize myself. How the name stuck and how everything I used to love just gradually faded into nothing, and how I just became Lotte. Lotte, the stripper, drinker, smoker, and girl happy just to take every day at a time. I angrily blinked away more tears.
"Nothing is wrong with my life!" I spat as I blindly reached towards the nightstand. My hand reached the target, Bud. I drank, then crushed the can in my hand, and rolled over in my crappy bed. Hopefully I would sleep better now.
The dim morning sun shone through my small window straight into my eyes. I opened one eye and glared into the cheery light. Bringing one hand up, I attempted to block the annoying intrusion for my sleep. It was to no avail, so I completely turned over.
"What the hell?" I muttered in surprise. One the pillow next to mine was a small flower. A single red rose with a small bud that had not yet bloomed and which contrasted to the dark, thorn-less stem. Around the stem was a thin black silk ribbon tied in an elegant bow . It was very pretty, and I found myself momentarily distracted. Then I stumbled out of bed and grabbed the rose up from my pillow, my short hair swirling in a curly mess around me. It would not be fun to straighten later, I reckoned.
"Liz? What is this?" I growled when I came into her room. She was sprawled on top of the covers of her small bed wearing only a bra and garters. I didn't want to know why. She didn't wake up, so I tugged on a strand of her bleached hair .
"Mmph!" she groaned and sleepily swatted at me with one tan hand.
"Why did you put a rose on my pillow?" I asked, starting to get pissed off. She finally opened her eyes and gave me a dazed look.
"I didn't get you the damn rose. Now let me go back to bed!" With that, she turned over and ignored me. Cursing under my breath, I tossed the flower to the floor and went into the kitchen to make some coffee. Weird shit had been happening to me for the some months, but in the last couple of days it had been happening more frequently. That flower hadn't been the first to arrive on my pillow in the morning. Previously I had just thought it to be Liz's weird sense of humor coming out. But now I realized she didn't have enough time to be somber to actually pull of lame pranks on me. It had to be someone else....but who?