The overwhelming aroma of burger grease and melting cheese wafts into my room, caresses my nose. I am hungry, near starved; and yet I remain sitting on the bed. My knees are curled to my chest and I grasp them as if holding on to a lifeline. The room is quiet except for the sounds of water splashing outside and my ragged breathing. I listen for a snippet of conversation, my name perhaps or maybe even his. Nothing. The laughter and sloshing water slapping the sides of the concrete pool repeatedly drown out any conversation.
I unclasp my hands and slide off of the bed. A lone orchid in a pot sits on my dresser, demanding all attention. I stroke its petals, the beautiful and intricate design spreads across each petal; the designs so alike and yet entirely different on each petal.
I look into the mirror and back to the orchid. The blossom is far more beautiful and delicate, a true rival. In the mirror I see a medium-heighted girl with straight brown hair that just reaches below her shoulders. The hair emits about as much life as the girl. I notice light brown eyes and a lightly tan complexion.
The orchid displays petals that fan out to heaven, pink and yellow and white. The leaves bear no sign of any kind of damage, no brown edges, scuff marks. A stem reaches to the star flower and tries to compete with its two buds. It is beautiful, far more so than me. I wonder if he would think the same.
The orchid had humiliated me, so quickly. I grab it by the bottom and yank it hard. I toss the beseeching flower into the trash. With the flowers buried in the trash, all I can see are dirty and ugly roots, dark dirt pooling around it like blood.
I had to rid of it. I look back down at the trash and notice a tiny pink petal peeking out from under the dirt. I kick the trash inside with my bare foot, concealing the culpable bloom and covering my toes in dirt. Yes, I think, as I brush off my foot, a commendable competitor.
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