Wishes From the Heart- Chapter 2

Reality Check

This was Bulma's home! Trista felt her jaw drop as she took in the massive dome shaped house. How expansive, how nice, how...weird. Her head went back and forth, trying to take it all in as the blue haired woman ushered her into the front door.

"This is your home?" Trista asked as she surveyed the living quarters. The living room looked like the size of a baseball field. It was huge! Her gaze shifted back towards Bulma. Bulma was watching her, lips twitching.

"Yes," she giggled. "You seem surprised."

"Well," Trista said slowly, "It's a pretty damn big place, especially for one person."

"Oh, I don't live here by myself. My mom and dad live here too. Oh, and we have visitors ALL the time." Bulma looked exasperated when she said the last part.

"Oh, Okay." Trista said, feeling her shoulder's relax at the knowledge that she wasn't alone here with a perfect stranger. Then she mentally rolled her eyes. They're all strangers, idiot! Her mind chided her. She focused back when Bulma started walking across the living room.

"You can stay in one of our guest bedrooms," she said, "we have plenty," she added, sarcastically. "I'm sure you'll want to get some rest and something to eat. You have had a trying day, yes!" She reached into a hallway closet, bringing out a blanket, pillow, towel, and what looked like a credit card. Bulma waived for Trista to follow her down the hallway, stopping at the sixth door. She handed her the blanket and pillow.

"Now, here's fresh linens and a pillow." She opened the door, swinging her arm out like she was presenting a prize. Trista almost giggled. I guess everything is starting to get to me.

"This will be your room as long as you want to stay. You should have everything you need. The kitchen is on the other side of the living room, you can't miss it. Oh, and here's your towel," she said, handing Trista a towel the size of a bed sheet. "I know, mom and dad love their luxuries," Bulma explained at the look on Trista's face.

"Well!" she honestly couldn't think of anything else to say. She glanced at the "credit card" in Bulma's hand.

"Oh," Bulma explained when she saw Trista looking at it, "this is for you to buy anything you might need while you are here." Trista's face reddened.

"Don't be embarrassed. Everyone gets one while they stay here. Believe me, mom and dad won't miss a dime," she said with a roll of her eyes.

It was one thing to be able to rest and eat, but quite another to take someone's money.

"No."

"Oh...uh. Why not?" Bulma asked, genuinely confused.

"I'm not taking money from you, Bulma. I'll take the shower, rest, and food. And I thank you for your hospitality, but I am NOT taking your money." She sat the bedding on a chair.

There was a brief moment of silence. Then Bulma let out a breath. "Well, to each his own, and all that." She started for the door. Pausing slightly, she asked, "Will you at least tell me if you need anything, anything at all. I don't mind helping out."

Trista was silent for a moment before saying, "Sure." They both knew she wouldn't. But Bulma wasn't going to argue with her choices.

"I'll let you unpack and see you in the kitchen. Oh, and the bathroom is through that door." she added, pointing to a door on the other side of the room.

"Thanks. I really do appreciate it."

Her host merely nodded her head and quietly closed the door.

-Midnight-

What in the world was she going to do? She glared at the ceiling, as if answers were going to show up in the plaster. The lights from outside brightened her room, casting elongated shadows along the ceiling and walls. She imagined they were fingers coming to drag her back to her world. Trista shook her head at her own musings. She really didn't understand anything that has been going on in the past twenty-four hours. It exasperated her, it frightened her to where, if given the chance, she might just have a full blown panic attack. I'm surprised I haven't had a mental breakdown by now. She gave a disbelieving laugh, almost terrified to shut her eyes in case everything was not as it seemed, and she "woke up" from this...dream?...nightmare? She wasn't sure which yet. She was almost too afraid to find out. So far, everything that has happened had not been to bad. She felt like her body was in disassociation with her mind. She kept thinking that she was delusional, that her mind created this elaborate reality to distance her body from the ordeals of the real world. She was afraid to "wake up."