Sour Balloon Plastic

Red

My hands smell like sour balloon plastic.

I prop my feet off from the ground, squat on my swivel chair and begin to spin. The balloons on the floorboards blur into a mess of red, yellow, blues and purples (They were the only colours available in the packet. Cheap fuckers.)

I keep spinning and spinning until I think I see a blur of red and I launch myself out of my rotating-at-a-zillion-miles-per-hour chair with the grace of a schizophrenic camel. I hit my carpet of balloons with a loud slap-bang, as my foot smashes against a vanity that I don’t remember buying and several balloons popping against my face. My vision is swimming, swimming, swimming and I can see little dotty white insects crawling all over my room. I giggle and instinctively curl into a ball from the pain.

There is a loud pounding from my door. My head hurts. Shut up. Funny.

“What the fuck are you doing you stupid fuckwit?!” someone yells from the other side.

I groan and stand up, doubled over in my stinging, throbbing ecstasy. My vision is still swimming like crazy and my stomach doesn’t feel so happy all of a sudden. I fling open my door to reveal the suddenly-surprised-borderline-angry face of my roommate. I burp into my hand and attempt to run into the distant blur called bathroom.

Obviously, running was a stupid idea as my eyes slide about and I land painfully on my right ass cheek. I groan again and drag myself over to the tiled floor and promptly vomit into the toilet bowl. I get most of it over the toilet seat due to my slightly…impaired aim.

I flush the toilet and lean against the white porcelain watching the water spiral down like the liquids do in my head. The ceiling above me is going around and around and it looks like excellence to me. It is like a pot with every colour imaginable poured into it and I am the paintbrush mixing it around and around…

Spiraling…

Turning…

Blending…

So pretty…

I giggle and lavish in the burning sensation in my stinky mouth.

A pair of bare feet slap next to me.

“Hey Steven!” I yell.

My roommate doesn’t flinch at my voice echoing over the walls and merely stares. I try to waggle my eyebrows at him but end up looking like an electrocuted gopher. (Not that I know what that looks like, but it’s nice to imagine.)

“Fucktard,” he says and walks away scratching his hip.

I feel sated and a little tired from my adventure. I stand and walk (stably) over to the sink. The cold water pours from the nozzle and I cup my hands in it, splashing it on my face. I rinse my mouth, turn off the tap and place a hand on either of the sink. I sigh and look at myself in the mirror.

My dark brown hair is having rough strand sex with itself on my head and my brown eyes are slightly bloodshot. I have managed to grow seven extra eyelids on my left eye, hiding my sometimes thick eyelashes, and a bruise on right my cheekbone too. There are water droplets clinging to my sweaty, pale skin and I can count the hairs inside my big, long, straight nose. There is a cut on my pouty top lip and it stings when I lick it. My mouth is made strangely with a fuller top lip and thinner bottom lip. It makes my chin look weak and my grins doleful and sometimes manic.

I think am the ugliest being with a penis on this planet and I kiss my reflection, basking in my narcissism.

Steven comes back with a roll of paper towels and sees me kissing myself. He rolls his eyes and bends down to wipe my puke off the toilet seat. I help him and together we clean up my mess in silence. We flush the wads of paper n’ puke away and he washes his hands, tucking the roll of paper under his arm and exiting.

I watch his black hair rustling as he walks. I watch his back muscles shifting in his tee. I watch his butt move in his pants.

“Steven. Can I fuck you?” I ask.

He continues walking.

I shrug, wash my hands and dry them on my thighs. I sniff my fingers and look into the mirror.

Hi, my name is Adelaide and my hands smell like sour balloon plastic.

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Thank you for reading! I'm sorry if the story has zero excitement/thrill/process/progress/aim/plot/structure.

Please review D.