Separate Sides of the Room

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Iliana, Aug 16, 2012.

  1. Febreeze was now $1.97. Last week it was $1.59, but now it was $1.97.

    Drina made a face at the price tag as if she expected to burst into flames and magically turn back into it's previous price. All the staring did was give her a fat headache that lounged on the side of her head. It was a blossoming migraine soon to hit her the minute she arrived back at the dorm. The dorm. Drina made another disgusted face, grabbing two bottles of Febreeze for good measure. The stuff was expensive, but it did the job. It got rid of the smell and, ultimately, that was what she was looking for. The smell brought on by her roommate. Drina wasn't much of a frilly frilly girly girly person, but that didn't mean she didn't find it odd that her roommate brought upon a horrible odor in the room each and every day. The lack of vision had nothing to do with it, either. She was blind, not incapable of smelling anything. Drina wasn't going to ask her why, though. She must have had her reasons.

    She shoved a 5 into the cashier's hand, looking away from him as if he didn't exist. The boy tried to strike up some kind of conversation, but Drina kept her blue eyes plastered to the cash register, watching the $4.31 blink behind the screen. The change wasn't worth keeping, so, with her eyes averted from his, she grabbed the two canisters and head out the automated doors. The mid-fall weather bristled across her neck as she pulled her light hoodie closer around her shoulders, Febreeze shoved under her arm. Her small, compact, and sort of rusted Camery winked at her under the florescent orange lamp. It had to be somewhere close to 9 in the evening by then, meaning that she had exactly one hour before they closed the gates. Yes. They were careful about security there.

    Drina tossed herself into the car, putting it in reverse without bothering to look behind her. So what if she hit a car or if she died in some wreck? That'd only mean one less person out there wanting to buy Hawaiin Febreeze. She tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear that was studded across with earnings. There was not one piece of exposed skin there. Just the way she liked it.

    "You're listening to WLKN radio. Your station for nonstop Pop Rocking Rock! I'm your host Jiggy Jason Smotter, bringing to you the best from the West. Up next, we have a new Myrule Castle, Redemptemp. Wanna hear your favorite jam? Hit me up over the celly and sweet talk me. Aye! All you men can stay away! You all know how Smotter does with the ladi--" She flicked off of the radio and drove in silence, listening to the wind whistling through a tiny crack in the passenger's window. It was a short, shrill sort of sound, amplifying when the car traveled over an incline in the road. The sun long since disappeared behind the horizon. Drina wondered if she could be just like the sun, coming into life when she wanted to, only to die at a certain time, reviving again in the morning.

    The drive back to the dorm was long and the walk up the stairs was longer. Fruder University was obsessively in love with long stairs. She took them two at a time, bracing herself before opening the door to room 14B. Once she did, she shut her eyes and did the best to keep a straight face as the smell ransacked her like a sack of bricks. It was the price she had to pay to stay in the dorm.

    That and $4.31.
  2. School school, who the fuck liked school?!

    When you wake up in the mornings and the first thing you see is a mess of clothing that hadn’t been washed, a bag of five day old chips, a Gatorade with some mold at the bottom, a blind-mans cane, and a note from your mother that you’ve read nine times with grease stains on it what would you think? Well for Aastha she thought ‘home’, a place of welcome and relaxation. The only place she could be herself; the only place vision didn’t become such a large hindrance that she wanted to die! This filth, her filth, was home. However, it wasn’t morning time it was about 20:30 and she wasn’t in that crumb filled mattress sheets and pillow she called a bed. Instead she was at her desk. Old Burger King bags with left over hard fries and bits of old bread dawned the surrounding area’s of her workspace. A book in front of her read Calculus II: An Advanced Guide to Astrophysics. Obviously she had a math intensive major right? Wrong, Aastha’s major was music and she was quite well versed in it too! At this point in time she was doing what she called ‘fun’ learning more useless information that she’d never apply.

    Aastha was a very depressed child you see – most of her life was spent in the darkness where no one could see her and where no one could ‘hear’ her. Their room, Drina and hers, was always dark like she liked. This stopped her roommate from having to see her and her ugliness, or so she felt. Aastha would strut around the dorm in a white T-shirt that had all sorts of old stains on it, sweat ketchup food you name it, and a pair of panties she hadn’t taken off to wash since she could remember. These were her ‘comfort’ clothing she even had names for them! Because of this when she first arrived at good ol’ F.U. and was assigned her roommate they had some fights about how ‘nasty’ it was to look at. Eventually Aastha turned off the lights and eventually it just ‘settled’ that way. Her roommate was off doing god-knows-what at this time of night and so this left Aastha free. She slid back in her chair – the sound of paper bags and clothing shuffling on the floor crinkled out into the atmosphere to an unwavering ear – walking over to the stereo that they shared and putting in one of her favorite bands. One of those stereo typical blues bands the song Cry Me a River ringing out as the trombone played behind the vocalist. Secretly she’d cry to this music, even though she lied to her roommate and told her otherwise, the tears would flow down her cheek gracing her chin and making her face glisten red hot. The African American albino wouldn’t sob, that would give away her secret, instead she’d silently lay in bed on her side facing the window and let the petty wash over her.

    But what would cause a girl to be so depressed and upset? Was it years of teasing, bullying, and lack of effort from family and ‘friends’ is that what pushed her to these extreme bounds? Was it the bolstering insecurity of her handicap, the years of knowing she could never do as well as her peers? Was it the snide remarks people would make behind her back that they thought she couldn’t hear? Perhaps even the mental wear and tear that she set upon herself; the constant knowing at her limitations and boundaries. The answer to these questions was yes, and much more. Aastha had always been told how ‘worthless and useless’ she was by her grandparents. Always spat on, sometimes literally, by her older brother whom had to take care of her. The stories of how capable and able legally blind people were was not her case. She was the girl whom tried everything and failed, the girl who needed brail not because she couldn’t see but because she didn’t have the confidence to use her eyes. She was the girl who was more than feeling self petty, she was feeling a lifetimes worth of doubts concerns and cynics crash down on her head. Then as if that wasn’t enough her one beacon of light and hope was snatched from her when she needed it most. Over this last summer she’d lost her mother heading into college. She lied to her father that she was going to be okay, she wasn’t. Every night she’d cry for thirty minutes before bed, every day she’d pray that her mother be restored to her. Every midday she’d pass the Hall of Achievements where she’s see an old photo of her mother when she was a gal and she’d break into tears.

    Unable to handle these emotions she flopped over again to lay on her other side, for the first time her tearing face, snot dripping nose, and bright red eyes faced the door. She thought of the ‘cheap’ way out, the escape that death could bring and began to laugh, the music changed now to I am Nothing Until Someone Thinks I’m Something. About this time her roommate walked in, that was the first time Drina has seen her cry at least that Aastha knew of. The girl didn’t try and hide it, the pallid light of the hallway bathed her pasty skin. This was her, her truth, her reality, what she did, besides the girl would probably play it off like she had never seen it. She lay there, arms crossed around her thick set form, legs curled up tightly to touch her chest, her dirty sock clad feet hanging off the edge, this was her reality. Something Drina should accept or move out! She wasn’t happy, she wasn’t joyful, there was nothing to BE happy about. She let a burp come from her mouth, it tasted of vomit like they all did when she was upset, the roaring little gas bubble making her sound like a lion at first.

    ”Hey welcome home.” She spoke in her weak little voice that couldn’t break the wings off of a fly. Her body shivered, her face contorted, then her chest convulsed, there it was! She ran quickly, kicking clothes and old food bags out of the way, to the bathroom where she began to be sick. This was the first time she’d actually thrown up, any hunger she might’ve felt was gone now! After being sick for almost ten minutes she wobbled out of the bathroom and over to her bed where she plopped herself face down and waited for the reticule of how gross, sick, discussing, perverse, depressing, stupid, pitiful, pathetic, shameful, immature, and outcaste she was. This was going to be the day her roommate moved out

  3. "Hell,"she whispered, nose curling in something foul and sickening. Actually, that was exactly what she was smelling. The foul and sickening stench of good ole Aastha, her roommate. The one that made her go out of her comfort zone at night to buy expensive bottles of Febreeze just to be able to breathe in her dorm without suffocating to death at the smell. Drina never liked being rude to people unless they deserved it, but Aastha was pushing it. Once, they had a discussion on why she was living the way she was, but Aastha didn't give her an answer more than she gave her a handshake, which was never. Drina wouldn't dare let that girl touch her. She hadn't bathed in Heaven knows when and probably had half of the world's bacteria on her fingertips. It was better if she didn't touch her with a ten foot pole.

    Drina opened her mouth to say something until Aastha suddenly vaulted from her seat and straight into the bathroom. A dark strand of hair flew on the bridge of Drina's nose which was still wrinkled in disgust. The guttering sounds of Aastha's retching upturned Drina's stomach, but it was nothing new. This happened to her roommate on a daily basis. While in the living room, or what one could call a living room the small dorm provided, Drina took the opportunity to spray Hawaiian Breeze in any inch of the room she could reach. Her foot snagged against a stray bag of chips, nearly tripping over a pile of clothes on the way. Still, if she wanted to breathe, she had to sanitize the air as much as possible. Drina just hoped to hell that no one else bothered to come in their room.

    Fruder University was a pretty legit college for students who wanted to broaden their talented majors. Things like Art, Acting, Music, Speech and Debate were usually the courses given in the school. For example, Drina decided to take up on Speech even though she hated speaking in large crowds. Something about eyes being on her every second she was behind that podium. Hushed breathes locked in the throats of her peers as she prepared to speak on something she was 'passionate' about. In a way, she was torturing herself. She wanted to get better at talking to people, but not in front of large masses. It was even hard to talk to her roommate and Aastha was just one person! Still, it was pathetic that she had trouble talking to a slob.

    "What is it this time? Forgot to eat?" Drina muttered, loud enough for Aastha to hear her as almost half of the bottle of Febreeze settled around the air. Instead of mingling with the smell in the air, it sanitized for the moment, coating the room in a Hawiian Breeze. Drina savored the aroma for the moment. In about an hour it would leave and she would have to sanitize the air again. Meanwhile, Aastha would be sleeping peacefully in her bed of filth.

    Why me?
  4. Aastha sighed as the bile spewed from her mouth. The acid washed her throat coating it making it feel raw. Normal, this was HARDLY normal she didn’t vomit that often, maybe twice a month. Okay so it was normal. She sighed though and looked to her ‘friend’ her tears still streaming. Did she not notice that for the first time Aastha was actually ‘showing’ that she was crying? She noticed the Fabreeze in the air, it’s thick scent choking at her. She fucking hated it when her roommate did this shit. The scent of the Fabreeze made her want to vomit more and she eventually cracked giving her a begging look. Her tears flowing her snot dripping she looked like a pathetic ghost thing. She sniffled, hummed, and eyed around finding her bed. Curling up in the blankets she murmured something about how much she wanted to die, at first not recognizing what her roommate had said. Noticing though that the cold hearted bitch was actually talking to her she shifted again, her big thick legs curling up to her chest. The sound of blankets moving graced the conflicting air, she was getting comfortable shifting until she was in a tight curled up ball. The sounds of sniffling finally were let look, if Drina was paying attention she’d see her face read with flushed blood. Snow glistened by the small dim lights that seeped from under the door to the room

    As far a school went Aastha was a great student, no one would think she was so depressed. She studied hard made great grades and was top of her class heading towards making valedictorian. With her head on her pillow, a chip or two crunching loudly in her bed feeling the crumbs stick to her skin, she shook her head. She felt the acidic death in her roommates tone; it pissed her off so badly! She wanted to get up and punch the female. In Aastha’s mind she could see it, blood dripping from Drina’s nose her mouth busted and bleeding. The screams of how sorry she was bleeding out into the atmosphere, this would be perfect if only it would happen. No Aastha was a coward, a wimp, she’d never strike the cold hearted bitch. Oh how she wanted to smite her with the fury. In thinking about all of this she just continued to cry, her red eyes scanning Drina, tears flowing from them.

    See that was kind of the creepy thing about Aastha. When she cried she didn’t have her eyes closed. They’d stay wide open and blur with tears and glare at the first thing she saw, Drina, and stay fixed on it. Now this was the first time that she’d ever laid her eyes on Drina in this manner. The anger the hate, the cold ferocity building, it was all visible for the [b[first[/b] time. The tension in the air thickened as she choked and coughed. She wheezed and sobbed loudly. The first time she’d ever sobbed too… Her tears were usually silent and she usually did them focused on other things. She reached in her blankets and pulled out a bag of chips and started to stuff them in her mouth, the crumbs falling onto her pillow. Shaking her head to her roommates stupid question. She wanted to smite the bitch for even saying it.

    ”I don’t skip meals. I’m, I’m upset! So stop making fun of me okay?” Her tone was acid washed like her throat. She looked at the girl and shook her head, expecting to hear a sharp come back.

    With her speech done she continued to shove food in her mouth and eventually went wide eyed. This wasn’t settling right in her stomach! This never happened she could ‘always’ eat whenever she was upset. She quickly threw her blankets off and started to run. The sounds of her wanting to vomit ringing loudly as she moved and eventually burst open the bathroom door. She didn’t quite make it to the toilet and so she literally threw herself at it, just barlly landing all of her sick in the bowl. She just lay there on the ground, the cold cold ground sobbing. This was the worst day o her life ever… And she knew it.

  5. And, just like that, she was at it again. Aastha was heaving up everything but her liver in the bathroom, puking between her mingled sobs. Come to think of it, Drina never did see her roommate cry, but boy, it was not a pretty sight. Her face was completely plastered over with a shade of red. Her nose was the darkest thing on her face, mucus threatening to pull over and land on the tip of her upper lip. Drina wouldn't have been surprised if Aastha slurped it up. She was dirty in that fashion. The tears streamed down both sides of her cheek and Drina imagined how the hot liquid felt. Was Aastha used to this kind of thing? Was crying a regular for her? If so, Drina hated that she had to live with the beast.

    Her question was answered in a choking voice from her roommate who had somehow made it back to there bed in one piece. Drina expected her to fall victim to sleep the moment her messy head hit her pillow, but no. She only kept crying. The sobs were getting on Drina's nerves as she placed the Febreeze bottles on the kitchen counter beside a half eaten Subway sub. Drina wasn't the neatest person either, but she still took care of herself. Most people around the college took one look at her and shifted their eyes off in the opposite direction. Emo, they called her, just because her hair was jet black and her clothes fit the profile. Who knows? Maybe they were right. Maybe Drina was the type to slit her own wrists, enjoying the pain and laughing at how minuscule it was compared with her life as a whole.

    No. Drina was just different.

    "I'm not making fun of you, A. If I was, I'd make a song about you and play it on a guitar. I just want to know why you keep throwing up everywhere. That shit's gross. Go to a hospital if it's that damn bad." The words left her mouth before she had the time to think about what she had just said. It may have sounded mean, true, but it was the truth. She was just being honest. If Aastha was sick then she needed the right people to make sure that she could get better. Drina wasn't a doctor. The Hawaiian Breeze remained in the air as Drina made her way to her bed, smoothing out her peach colored sheets. She hated peach. She hated that Aastha had white. She could see every stain on the sheets from where she was sitting.

    "Why don't you eat some sou--" Before Drina even managed the rest of the sentence out, Aastha was on the move again, retching so close to the floor, but managing to get most of it in the bowl. She sighed again and frowned, turning her face away from the scene. If Aastha wanted to kill herself slowly, it didn't matter to her. She never took Drina's advice anyway. Her eyes shut to a close, trying to sleep through the pathetic groans from the bathroom.
  6. S
    he sighed with great release. Her air escaping her acid washed throat like a bellow from a dragons breath. It left her feeling sick and ill, raw and exposed. With frustration she listened to her roommate, explain everything. Drina though she was so fucking smart. She thought she was better than everyone else. The very example she gave, the one with the guitar, made her want to go over and slap the holy fire from her body. ”How dare she get off? She sits there with those stupid looking eyes looking at me as a cry, complaining about me throwing up, and all of that, what the fuck! Why am I throwing up, stupid BITCH!” she told herself. Clearly, Aastha was having mental turmoil.

    Now the thing about Aastha was simple, she had a lot of emotional baggag. However, being used to being picked on so much often times getting the information from her was hard. People laughing at her, about her dead father, were a commonplace thing; heck even last year a boy said, “Your daddy died because of your stench!” This made Aastha go on an eating binge for three days and never leave the house during that time. With a loud sob, a cough, and something that sounded like a fart she sat up in bed unable to fall asleep. It took a moment after she sat up but eventually she started to talk. ”Well let me explain something to you. I’m not sick, I don’t have the flu, I’m not dying, and I’m upset. I throw up often when I’m upset. Usually you are busy outside, or with friends so you don’t hear it. Usually when I’m throwing up it’s because of some fucking idiot… today it’s because I miss my father. He died a while ago.” now that was all Drina was going to get!

    As far as Aastha was concerned that was more than enough information. She huffed a few times, looked to her cabinet, and nodded. When she stood up to walk over to it she looked woozy, clearly so much throwing up was making her ill. “Yeah soap sounds good.” She said grabbing a can. She tried to use the pull off top and looked sad. She was clearly too weak to do it. The little color she usually had in her skin was gone. Aastha needed to eat. ”Look, I don’t ask a lot from you, I really don’t.. This one time without bitching could you please open this can of soap?” she had hold out her hand that was shaking. In her other hand she held a paper bowl and a plastic spoon. She sobbed again and sniffed loudly some snot running back up and into her nose. Aastha was a mess! It was obvious that she’d just throw this soap up if she ate it in this current state. She needed to calm down, recent herself, then try the food thing. Instead, unless Drina were to stop her, she’d go on trying to eat and throwing it back up.

  7. If Aastha was trying to explain why she was so sick, it didn't really help Drina at all. If anything, it made her that much more confused. If she wasn't sick and didn't have any diseases, then why was she throwing up all over her room? It would make more sense to say that Aastha was sick because, if she was okay, she wouldn't be living the lifestyle that she was living then. Food all over the place, clothes always a mess, and being a pig everyday, pretty much. Drina's back was facing her roommate as she went on with her sob story of how she wasn't sick. At one point, she rolled her eyes and even scoffed. Suddenly, when Aastha claimed she was upset, Drina opened her eyes. Upset? The reason she was puking everywhere was because she was upset? Over her father? Drina pushed herself up on one arm, turning around and facing Aastha who was looking even worse than before.

    Drina looked passed it, blinking curiously.

    "Your Dad? I thought he died?" She stopped for a second, hearing the hiccups through her sobs before she confirmed her statement. Drina just sighed very lightly and shook her black hair a little. "Oh. Right. Well, I'm sorry. I mean, you can talk to me about it, you just never do. I'm a good listener, believe it or not." Drina shut her mouth, waiting for Aastha to tell her the story about her father and his death, but the story never came. She obviously didn't want to talk about it. With a light huff that Aastha couldn't hear, Drina pulled the covers around her shoulders and sat Indian style in the bed. Without her hat on, she felt slightly naked. She wore a hat every day, it seemed. They just fit her outfits so perfectly, and it was snowing, so it definitely shielded her from freezing cold nights like that one. Drina ran her fingers through the straight locks of black hair, watching Aastha make her way over to the cabinet to fight with a soup can.

    Drina dare not laugh.

    "Stop it." Apparently she didn't hear her, for she was still struggling to open the can. Drina pursed her lips together and threw the covers off of her, walking beside Aastha and doing her best to ignore the smell.

    Look, I don’t ask a lot from you, I really don’t.. This one time without bitching could you please open this can of soup?”

    "You don't ask anything from me," she added, taking the can from her fingers gingerly. Her blue eyes passed over Aastha's and they lingered there for a moment. She desperately wanted to know what was wrong with her. Why was she acting this way towards her? Towards everyone? Why was she living such a pigsty of a life? Nothing came out to her in those few seconds of eye contact but anger and sadness; Aastha's typical emotions. Sssspop! The can opened with one tug of Drina's fingers. With her other free hand, she grabbed the hand Aastha was using to hold the bowl with steady, pouring the soup into the bowl with the other. The two remained silent during the process until the last drop of soup fell from the bowl. Drina released Aastha's hand and walked over to the trash can, tossing the empty can into the bin and scuddling back over to her bed, sitting down and looking at Aastha to make sure she was going to be.

    Drina was checking up on her. Odd.
  8. W
    ow, that just happened! Drina had actually opened the can of soup without a single bitch. There was no snide remark, no snappy come back, no obscene comment, no over played comments, nothing. Was Drina sick? Was she truly upset about something that she had no knowledge of? No that couldn’t be it right? If she was upset she’d know about it, if she was upset…s he’d HEAR about it… with a large amount of frustration on her face though she accepted the help. This was just so strange for Aastha, when did her roommate actually care about her enough o do these things without calling her names? When did love replace a bitter sting? She remembered Drina’s general responses in the past, cold, heartless and dry. She remembered hearing those snide remarks and how much they hurt, fuck just remembering them hurt – and when she did so it was as if she was remembering hatred all over again. She sniffed loudly, snot could be heard rolling up lip and into her nose she placed her soup down and eyed Drina. She was kind, soft, gentle, what in the name of god was going on?

    Then it also hit her, Drina was touching her, with her hand, without a grimace, without a glove, without ‘wiping the dirt off’ what in the name of All Father? As she felt all of these emotions all of these things she began to cry even harder. Her eyes flung themselves shut and a whine started to build up in her throat. She quickly took her shaky nasty hands and covered her face as the annoying high-pitched whine ascended and began to get louder. At this point most people would want ot smack the living hell out of her. Her whining – for once actual whining and not just complaining or griping – was rather loud and annoying. When she started to cry harder, hands in front of her face, her body began to shake, literally she looked like she’d go nuts on the spot. She eventually started to try and speak – although the mixed of sobs whines and shudders didn’t really allow it to sound like speech. What came from her mouth was much more a blurred gibberish than it was English.

    ”I-i-i-I I thank you!” with that loud incoherent sentence she lunged herself at Drina, a hug? Yes this was defiantly a hug. All of the rules at this point were thrown out the window. Aastha was doing things she’d never do, was instructed to never do, and never dreamed of doing. Drina apparently had became nice, was doing things she’d never do, and it appeared that she was also doing things she’d never dream possible. The hug was a interesting feeling. On one part Aastha was extremely warm, a great hugger. Her arms wrapped around Drina neck – putting her armpits about nostril level for Drina enjoyment of her fermented funk – her large breasts pressed against Drina’s making skin contact so fierce that the two practically were flat chest against one another. Aastha’s heat radiated off of her that sweat may be caused in the contact – a side effect of being part Jamaican on her fathers side. ”I miss him… I wasn’t ready for him to die… Every night he’d give me a nice foot massage, rub my legs and sing for me. Every morning breakfast would be prepared for him and he’d leave me with some kind of a special note that he wrote every night before bed. He’d tell me how I was special, how I could do great things… Then he was taken from me!” her sentence sounding more like a mixture of gargles, sobs, shudders and snot sucks than an actual explanation. If Drina anagoges to catch any of that she’d be blessed. The hug continues, Aastha infamous dirty and grime ‘literally’ staining Drina’s body. Where her arms touched the females neck was now a dark grey, where her clothes touched Drina’s clothes was now a dark figure as well. Where her armpits were sweat ran from it, as if to try and escape the powerful odor itself. Literally Drina was in a hell of Aastha that she’d worked so hard to escape. The only good part of this was that Aastha, despite being upset, seemed to not have gas. This was a record achievement that Drina would somewhat know about. Every night around nine Aastha would start farting up a storm, this wouldn’t stop until twelve, when Aastha was good and asleep. The reason being was because every night around Nine Aastha would cry about something – most of the time missing her father or some kid or Drina picking on her – the emotional level she’d reach would then cause her stomach to be upset and kill everyone’s nose! So at this moment Drina was lucky, even though she wasn’t lucky.

    ”Can we go sit on your bed, while I eat my soup… I’ll talk about it. the first, and only, coherent sentence in the last five minutes. Probably the only sentence Drina didn’t want to hear. Defiantly the only sentence that had nothing to do with the problem at hand.

  9. Drina didn't see it coming.

    She thought she knew Aastha and how she worked. She thought it was all the same thing over and over again. Drina would come home, douse the entire dorm with Febreeze and try to sleep through the mess Aastha had made during the day. That was the cycle. it is what it had always been and Drina never saw it changing. So, instead of forcing herself to change Aastha, she accepted her for what and who she was. The two had their own sets of boundaries that neither passed the other, so it was going...well. However, when Aastha threw her arms around Drina and thanked her, so many things became broken. For one, Drina's personal space was shattered. The smell, feel, stains, and filth that had been Aastha was now a part of Drina. Drina froze. She didn't move a single muscle in her body and managed to hold her breath.

    When Aastha started talking about her father, still pressing her disgusting body to Drina, Drina's mind moved a mile a minute. The smell was by far the wrost thing about the embrace. Even though her breath was held, there were still points when Drina had to breath, otherwise she would die. She was careful to inhale and exhale through her nose and not her mouth. That would be the equivalent of tasting her...which...just wasn't an option. Something sticky and gooey crawled over Drina's arm and she didn't question it. If she found out what it was, she might have started barfing like Aastha was doing before, so Drina kept quiet.

    "I...uh...yeah."she coughed while Aastha backed up. Drina was glad to know that she didn't ruin the soup at all. To get a reason to get away from her, Drina grabbed the bowl of soup off of the counter and popped it in the microwave, setting it on 45 seconds. That should be about the right amount of time for the soup to be warm. Drina ignored Aastha tiny whimpers, trying to decipher what she was saying through her ragged breaths. She gave up halfway, grabbing the bowl out of the microwave and turning to face Aastha.

    ”Can we go sit on your bed, while I eat my soup… I’ll talk about it." Drina wanted to say no so badly. So very, very badly. Instead, she stood still and inhaled as much fresh air as she could while she was away from Aastha before pointing to her bed.

    "Go ahead." Drina knew she was going to regret offering her clean bed to Aastha, but she couldn't help it. Something in her wanted to see Aastha get better, and if enduring her filth was the first step to it, Drina would do it without question. So, after taking one more deep breath, Drina made her way over to her bed and sat down, patting next to it to motion for Aastha to sit.

    "Alright. Talk to me."

  10. S
    he was slowly her way over to Drina’s bed. For the first time in a long time every step Aastha took wasn’t full of her power, she wasn’t thudding like a giant bolder smashing the ground around her. She moved like she was dizzy, which she was. Her body swaying from left to right like some kind of tic toking clock. Her hair flopped from side to side when she finally reached the bed and turned around. Her big butt looming ever so dangerously over what was once an “Aastha free’ zone. Without second thought, without a flinch on her face, a cringe from her teeth, she sat down on the bed. The springs not used to her larger weight creaked, well the painful part was over right? The sheets were already filthy now? With out a second thought she assumed her usual ‘sitting position’ pulling her filthy feet up to her chest, her butt bending slightly as they were placed on the bed her knees collapsed against her chest. She lay her dizzy head against her head and just huffed some as more tears rolled down her face.

    She sighed some seeing Drina move towards the bed and sitting beside her. Was this really happening? Someone was beside her, willing to talk to her, willing ot embrace her. This didn’t happen to her ever, or at least not until the death of her father. She huffed and tried to prepare her thoughts. She had to explain to someone who never knew her her lives purpose. She had to express to someone why – for the past eleven years of Aastha’s 21 year old life – she did her best to be unhygienic. With a frustrated glance back to her bed she somewhat reminisced over the last couple of moments. If her face wasn’t towards the door this whole thing may have been prevented. However on some level Aastha was glad that she did what she did, regardless of how out of character it was. It meant that Drina could get to know her better, and perhaps the other way around too. The microwave beeped, and she gave Drina time to go get the soup as Aastha was left to put her thoughts together.

    Receiving her soup she lowered herself down into a Indian stance. Her crotch releasing a foul – perhaps new to Drina – odor that somewhat plumed up and into the air. That may explain why the girl kept her legs shut so tightly all the time and sat like a ‘princess’ she knew of this? All the same she placed the warm bowl between her thighs. She sighed some and sipped at it loudly from her spoon and looked up to find Drina’s face. ”Let’s start from the top… how my father died.” she nodded her head and picked up her bowl to take a big loud slurp of the soup. With out thought of who was in front of her she burped, her breath sour with vomit and lack of hygiene.

    ”He was a FBI agent. One day he was doing Presidential Detail, no big deal standard procedure really. Well that day there was a sniper on the president. My father saw the glint of the rifle just in time to take the bullet… That didn’t kill him that wounded him. After that he pushed the president down and the fire fight began… It lasted all of ten minutes until reinforcements came… However in ten minutes my father was shot dead by three terrorist insurgents, over twenty bullet holes in his body…. the president himself came to my fathers funeral and sat me in his lap as I cried… I couldn’t help myself from there. I looked that man in the face and I told him how I felt of him. “I hate you, you scum, you took my daddy.” He cried at that point too… My father was, is, my world. Without him I am nothing! My father would wake me every morning would the same rhyme “good morning my star, the moon as set and I awake to give my darling a piece of cake. If she smiles I will too and give her a hug and stick like glue. If she frowns I may cry and offer her a piece of pie. If that doesn’t work I may sigh and give her my final goodbye.” Well… you know what.. I never got to give him my final goodbye. That day, before he left for work, I wasn’t at home. I was at the doctors office getting a surgery done that’d last all day… A surgery my father had saved up for for the past five years so I could see better…. My fathers DYING gift to me was eyesight… and I’ve never gotten to tell him thank you, I’ve never gotten to appreciate it… the first sight I ever saw of my father EVER was him dead in a casket with the US flag over him…”

    she paused a long moment, the air growing dense. As she let out a few loud sobs and cuddled up to Drina for a few moment her soup was finished now in one big gulp as she spoke in a bitter voice. ”That’s not all of it….” as if she were telling Drina more was to come but she wanted to gather her thoughts again.

  11. It took everything and a half to stop herself for looking at Aastha. If she would have looked at her and what she did, how she carried her self, and what was covering her, Drina was sure to become sick to the stomach, liver, and any other internal organs that were important to her. Instead, she kept her eyes to the floor even when a horrible smell hit her straight in the nose like a bag of bricks. A stinging filled the ducts of her eyes and Drina had to initiate a smooth move so that Aastha wouldn't think she was crying, because she wasn't. It was just the smell that was messing with her eyes and making tears spill onto her cheeks. Drina hung her head low, pretending to catch interest in the bed sheets as Aastha went off on her story.

    The entire time the story raveled on Drina fought to pay attention. In the back of her head, she knew she was torturing herself by allowing herself to sit there and endure Aastha and everything she carried with her. The story was as unpleasant as the smell, but there was nothing Drina could do about it. It was her who had told Aastha should could sit down in the bed so it was her that initiated her torture. Drina ran a hand through her hair and looked over to Aastha every time she hiccuped, burped, or made some other crude sound. She had might as well look like she was interested.

    Drina's mouth pulled into a frown when Aastha stopped speaking, left in a temporary stupor. Her father died and was led on by the President himself during the funeral? Aastha didn't look like the type to want to hear poems from her dad, but, there she was, breathing raggidly as she reminisced on the times she spent with her father and his death. Pig or not, Drina felt a pang in her heart at the speech and was just about to console her until Aastha warned hat she wasn't done.

    "There's more? How could it get any..." Drina stopped herself before she said it, knowing Murphy's law was a bitch to play with. Instead she folded her knees over her chin and tilted her head, tolerating the filth just a little longer.

    "What else?"

  12. L
    ike with all things that Aastha seemed to be discussing today the next part of her story took a few moments. She sipped at her soup loudly, her table manners being as graceful as a old horses. The loud slurps – bits of broth trickling down her chin – echoed in the rooms silence. Tears mixed with the soup making it take bitter and salty. After a few, and still being nestled close to Drina, she burped. The belch expelling the toxic smell of her breath into the air to trike at Drina’s nose with brutal forces. She hummed to herself, eyes looking down at the partially empty bowl. How could she go into the next segment, the next parts that would follow could easily be ‘blamed’ on Drina If she said them wrong. How could she make her words plain but not hurt her ‘friend’ who seemed to care? With one long gulp, a silent egg smelling fart, and a nod of her dizzy head she began.

    ”Let me explain two things first. My fathers death is what sent me down this path, I’ve never gotten over it. The second is that in this next section I want you to know I do not blame you for the occurrences, I don’t count you among the bullies.” With a loud snort to remove some snot from her face a rub of her dry and salt stained eyes and a wet sounding egg fart she began. ”After my father died my mother grew into depression too.. She canceled Family Night at my house, we no longer ate together, she started to drink herself into a black out night after night, and she no longer had the money to pay for our house. Well Uncle Sam, also known as the president, took care of that part. Our house is now on the governments bill always and forever… but that only left more money for my mom to drink. Shortly after my small break from school when I came back I could see now.. My eyes moved back and forth and all around in my head like they do now.” Which was true. Aastha’s eye muscles didn’t have the strength to keep them in place. This meant that they freely swirled around in their sockets and would roll to the back of her head and swirl around and all sorts of other twisted things. Going back to elementary school could be rough dealing with that no?

    ”After they started to bully me I lost all confidence. I stopped answering questions in class, I stopped ASKING questions in class. My teaches gave me all of their notes written in brialle. I dove into my school work, foresoke ever getting friends and only did what I had to… I stopped bathing, it was a waste of time and being dirty made me feel better anyway… My manners went down the drain, I only needed to focus on me right? Then middle school came… By that time I was the first, and only, girl in my class with breasts…” She paused and looked down to her own chest. She had a rather large set, easily a 36 DDD perhaps even under sized a bit. These were often times called Aastha’s ‘best trait’ by those horny boys who saw her afar. That and her child bearing hips. She was a rather plump girl, strangely enough physically fit, and obviously beautiful in her own way. So the true question that was left answered was why would Drina get insulted right?

    ”Well, the next most important fact is the bullying and rape… see in middle school boys found it… Okay to grope me, and I didn’t have the self-esteem enough to stop them, or report them. I went the rest of my days trying to wear baggy clothes so that the boys would leave me alone… The girls on the other hand, during P.E. would punch me, kick me, spit on me, take my glasses, steal my cane. You name it just to make my life hell. They especially found it funny to take my glasses, my cane, rip my clothes and push me out into the main hallway for kids to laugh at… Well one day they did this, and no one had told them our school was on lock down, Apparently a suspected rapist was on campus, well that suspect found me, and he raped me… He took me somewhere, I couldn’t ever see where, he had help by some boy in school, I couldn’t see who… They gagged me with my own panties, I couldn’t have screamed if I wanted to. At first I thought it was the principle taking me to go get help… By the time I reached the location I didn’t recognize… needless to say it was far too late. I remember that moment.. and after that the bullying only continued. The girls didn’t push me out into the hall anymore but they did rip my clothes, spit on me and make my life hell… Someone even found out.” she paused abruptly and glared at Drina in a haste only to jump off of her bed spilling the small amounts of soup on the bed floor and stood up and glared at her a moment. She seemed to have reached apart of the story she thinks Drina would care about.. and apparently care a Lot about. Within seconds the gal without her glasses, in her P.j’s without her cane had ran out of the door barefoot.. She only had on some skimpy short shorts and a top that was almost half see through… What the fuck was she trying NOT to say?

  13. Drina was at a loss for words over several things. The first being that she was still conscious. All of the smells, sounds, and textures that Aastha gave off were a deadly poison to her skin and her lungs. It was so bad that she figured that if the breath from Aastha's burp touched her skin, acid would begin eroding her skin away. That image kept Drina from moving any closer towards the girl. It was bad enough that her personal space had been all but violated. Drina did not smile nor frown. She was careful to breathe through her nose, though even that was hell. So many sounds and splutters made her wince. She went with Plan B: completely drown out all of her senses but hearing.

    So, she did. She sat there and listened to the entire story. Aastha's voice stopped cracking with tears. Sometimes, she would stutter or stumble over her words, but Drina was sitting patiently, awaiting the end. It wasn't a very pretty tale. In fact, it was all down right horrible. She may have been mistaken, but Drina swore that she felt sympathy well up in the base of her stomach at the tale. What kind of girl went through all that mess and actually had the right state of mind to retell it all? Relive all of the memories to a person they barely even knew? Drina had met her share of suicidal people. Girl's were the worse, always crying and using pain as the key to their 'way out.' Time and time again, Drina had to attend a funeral or escort one of her closest friends to a suicidal hotline. Would Aastha be the same?

    Drina sighed through her mouth. Bad mistake. She quickly coughed, her fingers flying forward to cover her lips and protect Aastha from her germs...not like it mattered. Still, it was second nature for her to do so. She coughed some more, hacking now and then at all of the breath she held from earlier. Water rimming around her eyes, she wiped them with the back of her wrist and sniffed. Another bad mistake. The coughs came back harder than ever. She didn't expect Aastha to come to her rescue, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Drina just didn't want to be touched anymore.

    "That's...that..." Unable to get her words out for the moment, Drina shook her head, black hair slapping her cheeks until she was better. Aastha said nothing so Drina considered her story done. "That's one hell of a life. I can't even...I can't even begin to imagine that shit. I would have been ended it, you know? Poison or drowning or something. I don't see how you put up with that, but you did, and that's cool, A." She swung her blue eyes on her roommate and locked them with Aastha's.

    "But you still gotta stop treating yourself like shit. No one's gonna respect you if you look like this! They call you a pig because you are a pig. Don't take that the wrong way,"she snapped, giving her a glare before continuing, "I'm not saying turn into Miss Perfect overnight. I'm saying, let me help you help yourself. That way you won't have to waste your time telling all of this to such a horrible person like me. And don't give me that look. I know you think I'm a bitch."
  14. W
    hat was Drina thinking? Like the solution was so simple, things could up and change so easily. In her mind she was slapping her across the face, yelling at her, kicking her, taking years of frustration that Drina didn’t cause out on her. This is what she wanted to do, not just to Drina but everyone. The difference was, now Drina knew why. She shook her head a few times and her eyes fell on the female who had been listening to her. She had her solutions to stop bullying but She knew better. ”if it’s not one thing it’s another.” she didn’t bother explaining that fragment of a much larger thought, but perhaps Drina could catch it. In short she was retorting to the ‘clean yourself up’ speech. Of course it was just a shameless moment to insert a plea for the cleanliness of the room, of course it was a advertisement to ‘better’ herself so that these things could all transpire right?

    Soon after Aastha’s focus shifted to a knew topic, in her mind she had registered Drina’s reaction to her blight last and not first and when she did register it she broke into a fit of laughter. Drina actually gave a fuck huh? Ending it is what she wanted to happen, she dreamed of the moment of glorious death! She just wasn’t the type to kill herself, no she wanted to die in some ironic twisted manner. Being shot by a gunmen for her believes, being trampled over by a chaotic series of events leading to a stampeding mob running form some sort of biological gas. Dying of an infection of her already atrocious body! She shook her head, she couldn’t say all of that to Drina, not after all that Drina had done. So instead she just managed these few tid bits. ”Oh I left the attempts at suicide out, but all in all I have tried three times. It was ultimately decided that Suicide wasn’t for me. But don’t think, not even for a moment, that I want to be here. I don’t, death is a much awaited release I’m anticipating every time I take my first breath in the morning.” even though many would argue that Aastha farts first in the morning instead of breathing. The general point was that she wasn’t this strong figure that Drina made her out to be, she was a weak bitter bitch!

    With a few huffed she lay back on the bed her body covering more distance now her hand finding a pillow and putting her grungy head ontop of it. She was still crying, anyone could see that and the farts were still coming at regular intervals, some silent, some loud, some wet, some dry. Her dirty feet were just barely off of the bed as she wiggled her toes and she put her arms up and behind her head letting sweat to roll from these filth pits onto the awaiting bed and other fabrics. The stink soaking into all it may touch. She was just dreaming of Drina.. Long since had she actually had a crush, yes a crush, on her roommate. This was the most well kept secret Aastha had, she was gay! That was the finishing segment to her speech that she cut off and needless to say, she was afraid of saying it. The last people that knew she was gay teased her, mocked her, and reticule her. The last people that knew wouldn’t let her live it down. Drina could be trusted, but she still had to earn that last bit of information.

    Just as another wet sounding toot echoed into the now silence of the room Aastha began to speak, her voice crackly with so much speech already, her words tainted with fatigue, was she about to fall asleep in Drina’s bed? ”I would think about cleaning myself up, but I have no one to live for and I don’t intend on finding anyone. Besides… I kind of like this life style, at least the lifestyle of my body. it not only reflects how I feel on the outside, it feels good too. You should try it my way before you knock it. Besides people will always find something to tease me about, my eyes, my hair, my weight, my skin color, my IBS, my silly habits.. That’s why I keep the lights off all the time Drina. So you don’t have to look at my ugly ass, so you don’t have to be tortured by my hideousness and so you won’t keep finding more things to …. Tease … me… about.” she was indeed getting sleepy. Apparently she had even forgotten what bed she was in and had rolled her thicker set self over breasts pressed firmly into the bed hugging the pillow long ways against her body. She was slowly going off to sleep, the tears still rolling down her face. One loud eruption of gas and soon Aastha fell silent, asleep, in Drina’s bed with plenty of room for Drina to lay down.

  15. The farting had to stop. It had to stop and it had to stop soon before Drina died. Yes. She feared for her life each and every time the sound erupting from Aastha's lower region. It wasn't as much of the smell as it was the sound. Aastha's natural smell managed to cancel out most of the farting, but the sound did the damage the smell could not. Each and every time the sound slipped into the air, Drina cringed and squinted her eyes closed. God, she wanted her hat back! Not that it was going to do anything glorious to the bowel movements; it was just the feel of it. The texture simply calmed her down, because, right about then, she wanted to snap. Aastha could have at least pretended to show some decency for her bed! Then again...never mind. Drina was not surprised at her roommate's actions.

    "No, wait..."she whispered, still pulling out hard and ragged breaths through her throat when Aastha spoke about suicide. It seemed that Drina spoke too fast about the action and she paid dearly for it. Now, not only was she fearing that Aastha was going to kill her with her filth, but now she was fearing that she wasn't going to live long enough to kill her with her filth! Drina had to keep her mouth closed. There was always something else to say, and, as expected, after about 11 more farts, Aastha pretty much downed Drina's grand plan of cleaning herself up.

    "Come on, A,"she coaxed, but her voice fell on unhearing ears. Aastha was completely out. Just like a lamp, the girl leaned down on Drina's bed, smearing death and the wrath of a hundred dumpers on her bed and the side of her leg, drifting off into a sleep. It was hard not to be so pissed. What was she supposed to sleep now!? Where the hell would she sleep now that Aastha had taken over her space!? Pursing her lips, Drina shrugged, mentally saying 'fuck it.' On the topic of suicide, she really didn't mind anymore. She was going to be dead in the morning, surely, for Aastha's state would surely kill her.

    But...if only for a night...Drina would pretend that Aastha was the friend Drina had always wanted. The one to tell things to, listen, laugh with, and occasionally...cuddle with. She gave up finally, squeezing her skinny body next to Aastha as goo and pit juice rubbed against her arm. Shuddering and taking in a sharp inhale, Drina closed her eyes and her mind off, sleeping in the night, knowing that tomorrow would not be any different, yet still hoping it would.

  16. A
    astha slept through the night soundly, Much to Drina’s happiness – although she wasn’t awake for it – Aastha hadn’t farted one lick that Entire night. However Aastha wasn’t used to someone sleeping with her either, so things might have gone better. In her sleep, after feeling Drina cuddle her, she cuddled back. She reach her arm out and wrapped it around her and soon turned on her side, having Drina use Aastha’s thicker body as a pillow system. She cooed softly in her sleep and brought Drina nearer to her eventually even turning them so that they lay longways on the bed. Things calmed down in the night, around midnight, somehow though Aastha had found her way under Drina and got Drina to now lay atop of her and while this contection was made, this dream occurred.

    It was a cold winters morning, Aastha’s favorite time of year, and as the cold wisped though the slightly cracked window two forms in one bed were seen snuggling closer. One was a bigger girl, thick and dark skinned, Aastha. The other was a skinnier girl wearing a hate, Drina. They seemed to be naked, or so it would yield itself to believe. An they cuddled Drina woke up. And in this awakened state these things occurred ”Oh dear, you did it again… you’re sweat got everywhere in the bed.” Drina teased and stroked Aastha’s chest bending over as she sat up in the bed and dilvering a kiss to her. Aastha wasn’t cleaned up, her filth was exactly the same as it had always been, but the bed was Drina’s no crumbs no nothing, nothing dirty in it but Aastha. Drina shuddered a bit after the kiss and started to run her hands through Aastha’s dread locks and whispered ”You may smell terrible, you may even try and live like a pig, but I’ll give you a chance, I love you.” of course in the history of this entire dating little moment Aastha was secretly awake, listening, admiring. She poked her head up only to speak ”I love you too and I’m still trying, it’s just ha-“ she was cut off by Drina kissing her wrapping herself up in each other, her dream faded into what appeared to be a very hot and passionate makeout scene having Drina say something like ”Oh come on Aastha if you had to toot just say so!” and several giggles going off at one time.

    It was now the weekend, early Saturday morning. The wind was cold, cold enough to chill their room. The sun was hidden behind rain clouds, and Aastha was as hot as any blanket could be, with the blankets wrapped around her and the sleeping Drina. She was in a semi state of awakeness, enough to know there was something on top of her, but she took that something as a way of her body saying to return to bed. So with that, despite the presperation she had gotten, despite her horny she was for some reason, that alarming dream about Drina, her current urge to know If Drina’s lips felt as soft as they had in the dream, she went back to a half state of sleep. Leaving Drina to the fun surpise of her current state of life.

  17. Drina's sleep couldn't have been more uncomfortable. She was very aware that Aastha was still in the bed with her, under the covers and too close to her body. They touched more than once, sometimes hugging until Drina sleepily pulled away. Still, no matter how many times Drina managed to roll away Aastha was there with her. That thought stayed latched onto the side of her head the entire night, slightly holding her back from a peaceful sleep: Aastha was always there. No matter where she turned, where she went, how far she ran. Aastha and her aroma would be right there with her, beside her, inside her.

    That's when Drina snapped up in a pool of her own sweat, the hot liquid mingling to Aastha's that managed to get stuck to her body. They shared the sweat mainly because Drina was asleep on top of her. How that managed to happen, she didn't know, but there was no way she was going to lay there and ponder over it. 6 hours were spent sleeping in the same bed as her and not another minute more was going to happen. Oddly enough, the smell wasn't as bad as it was last night, only because she had gotten used to it. Sleeping with it, it among other fumes had most likely gotten into her system, which had to be the most terrifying thought she had in a while.

    She gulped in what she thought was fresh air, careful not to awaken the sleeping giantess under her. Drina's entire face drained of color, gasping heavily while she looked down at Aastha. From that view...she didn't look half bad. Okay, so maybe there was a blotch too many around her clothes and maybe her hair was so strayed, despite the dread locks that locked between one another. A nappy, chaotic mess, but Aastha none the less. Drina slid her legs across the bed and groaned when she felt the sticky liquid of her sweat between her legs, holding her breath even though the sweat was her own.

    "...A, get up,"she ordered, not looking towards Aastha because she knew that if she did, the turmoil her stomach went through last night would come up. And by 'come up', she meant throwing it all up over the floor. She couldn't throw up that morning, though. This was her speech and debate class morning.

    "A. Aastha. Get up. You'll miss class,"she said again, using her tiny butt to rock her bed back and forth, trying to sway her roommate awake. She wasn't going to touch her. No. She had enough of that last night.
  18. /solid=red]
    he rolled around some as the bed rocked and reeled. In her sleepy state she clutched the closet thing to her, herself. Normally it’d be a pillow laying under her, but that wasn’t there tonight. As she clutched herself tightly she grunted and groaned some, honestly one may confuse it for a bowl movement. Nevertheless she was awakened really with a quick start her dread locks flopping everywhere her sweat kind of dripping off of her face and her voice letting itself reach that horror-movie-high. [COLOR=r663399]”I’m up I swear!”[/COLOR] she announced and then stood up not thinking of what bed she was sleeping on. She quickly stripped her p.j.’s off of her body. letting the excess liquids roll down her. This of course exposing Aastha’s form.

    Soft and voluptuous, those were the best words to describe Aastha – well other then gross. She was very curvy compared to her rather ‘straight’ roommate. Her breasts hung over trying to escape the bra she had slept in last night. A tag reading ‘35DD’ flipped out where one might see it. her panties – well perhaps it’d be better not to discus what they looked like – being a used-to-be-white soaked in sweat brown and yellow stains and the occasional small spec of red. She stretched out, her big butt f rocking back and forth as she found her all black skirt and her all black tank top. Aastha loved these particular articles of clothing the most out of her entire wardrobe, they made her feel pretty. The black pleeted skirt went just bellow her butt, so as she bent over in it one would get little flashes of her rear in action. She had a beautiful smile once she came back and smiled big, the biggest most genuine smile that Aastha had given Drina since they had been in their room together. It was then over shadowed by one of Aastha signature nasty bubbly farts that expelled rotten egg stench deep into the air – a morning ritual for the filth queen – only to be greeted with a small ”Thank you very much” so that the air seemed graced with her force. She never wore socks, something Drina might have picked up on this morning. Going over to the sink one might think Aastha was about to wash her face, in truth she just took a dry rag and made sure to get all of the dried up snot, tears, and other gunk off of her face. She soon put her dread locks up in a pony tail and smiled to herself as she spun around. Good day, she looked great. When she came back through the room, stepping on a half eaten bag of pretzels, she grabbed her cane took a deep breath again and looked miserable. Clearly she didn’t want to leave this room.