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 Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 10:26 am
Her mother had always said that the reason Kimmie was so spotty was because she ate so much chocolate. As a youngster, she'd believed it, until the doctor had told her she had acne. Even after learning there was actually a real reason for all of her spots, Kimmie tried to avoid chocolate, only indulging once in a while. But tonight was 'once in a while', and besides, hot chocolate didn't really count. Fetching herself a clean mug from the cupboard, she dispensed a few spoonfuls of powder into the mug, having already put the kettle on to boil. Whilst waiting, she sighed, glancing out of the window at the sports court, where a couple of boys were playing basketball. One tried a slam dunk, only to fail, and Kimmie found herself chuckling as the kettle whistled to indicate the water was boiled.
She poured the water into the mug, stirring all the while. Adding milk and a small spoon of sugar, she stirred a little more before it was finally ready. Replacing the milk in the fridge, she also snatched a biscuit from the tin, dusting the crumbs it created onto the floor as she dunked it before taking a bite, savouring the taste as she sat herself up on the counter. Well, no-one was around, who was to know? She sipped at the chocolate, smiling in delight at the taste. Mmmm, how she loved chocolate. Glancing out at the basketball court again, she continued to watch the game as she sipped at her drink contentedly.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 1:11 pm
Fallon had illegally kept a mini-fridge in her room for over a year now. She was fairly sure the administration knew, but for whatever reason, she was allowed to keep it. It was big enough to hold her more expensive food items, but she still needed to keep most of her stuff in the community fridge. Slipping into the kitchen, Fallon wanted only to retrieve some of her sliced carrots from the locked bottom bin. The kitchen wasn't empty.
From the smell of it, someone was making really terrible hot chocolate. "Powdered hot chocolate," she said as she entered. She could smell the watery waste from down the hallway, her keen nose picking up the scent like a bloodhound. "It's really not that difficult to make real hot chocolate, Kimmie." Barren Pines was a relatively small school, and the two girls lived on the same floor. Fallon was fairly sure she had given Kimmie this speech before, but she couldn't remember how recently.
Popping the fridge open, she slipped a small key from her pocket and popped the lock on her drawer. The carrots had been marinating in an herb blend for two days. Fallon grabbed the small Tupper Ware container, scooping a handful of carrots into a bowl, and then stashed the container back in the fridge. As she moved to stand, she made a last minute decision and grabbed a can of the pineapple soda that she'd bought on impulse during her last trip to the ethnic market.
Pulling out a chair, she say beside Kimmie, popping a carrot in her mouth and slipping a straw into the can of soda. Crossing her legs neatly, she didn't say anything. Just chewed and eyed the contents of the soda carefully. She usually didn't drink soda, but she was considering making use of this particular one in a marinade. She'd need to sample it first.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 1:18 pm
Kimmie wasn't too surprised when Fallon suddenly entered the kitchen, making a bee-line for the fridge. She was pretty sure that if there was nothing stopping her, Fallon would actually move into the kitchen and take up permanent residence there. She was in there so much, she might as well. Kimmie merely rolled her eyes at the comment on her hot chocolate, sipping it appreciatively, smiling as she did so. "Maybe not for you, Fallon, but not all of us have the time nor need. I quite enjoy the powdered variety."
The brunette sat beside her on the counters in silence, and Kimmie merely smiled, settling down into a more comfortable silence than awkward, only broken by the occasionally slurp of Kimmie and her hot chocolate. Glancing down at the ingredients Fallon was holding, Kimmie's smile widened as she asked, "So, what'cha cooking?"
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 2:00 pm
One hand curled neatly around the cool can. Between bites of carrot, Fallon would take a small sip, tapping her tongue against the roof of her mouth to savor the flavor. "I could make it for you some time. You just need to leave a note in the box by my door." This was standard operating procedure for Fallon. If anyone asked, she would fit them into her schedule and prepare meals and snacks as needed. It never felt like a burden. If Fallon had it her way, she would be the only person who ever used the kitchen, simply because she did all the food preparation for the entire floor.
Popping another carrot into her mouth, she chewed evenly, eyes flickering to Kimmie every so often. "Not cooking anything right now. I don't have time to clean the kitchen first," she explained. "This is just a snack." Fallon had math class in thirty minutes, and it would take her just as much time, at the very least, to clean the grime and dirt that her less tidy peers left behind. Sometimes, she felt as though several of them must just throw their leftovers into the air instead of the garbage can. She'd be back in the kitchen that night, at 7:00pm sharp, to start her cleaning and prepare her cooking space. For dinner, she usually had to make much more food than lunch or breakfast. More people showed up wanting to eat her food, plain and simple. She had already planned the meeting for that night, but made no mention of it.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 7:47 pm
Hot chocolate on a chilly autumn evening was pretty much better than a lot of things, things like "crack" and "true love." Even if it was the powdered stuff that Fallon seemed to be so disgusted by. The kitchen showed the usual signs of use: people had left stuff around, there were odd smears on the sink, there were a couple grains of sugar or something on the countertops -- even if it was a girl's kitchen, it was a little Gently Used.
Both Fallon and Kimmie became slowly aware of a sound interrupting their chat in the background, even as they sat on the sofa away from the sink area -- the drip, drip, drip of a tap, which was odd, as when Kimmie was making her hot chocolate she'd turned the tap off fully after filling the tea kettle.
Drip! Drip! Drip!
It was a normal sound: it just meant that somebody hadn't turned the tap off correctly. Probably more annoying to someone like Fallon than not.
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Posted: Tue Nov 10, 2009 7:29 am
Hmm? Kimmie smiled sweetly, shaking her head despite the kind offer, kicking her legs casually as she glanced down into her drink. "Naaah, I'm fine with my powdered stuff. Thanks for the offer, though! I do occasionally weaken and ask if you can cook me dinner, but most of the time I make do. Don't want to overwork you, now do we?"
She grinned. She knew Fallon liked cooking, and probably liked cooking for the whole floor. But still, she knew most girls felt bad if they left Fallon to do everything. Kimmie herself tried to help somewhat, and although it probably looked to Fallon like she was just getting in the way...hey, at least she tried. Maybe she should offer to help in other ways, in areas Fallon wasn't as good with and Kimmie was... "Ahhh, fair enough." she nodded, still smiling. Everyone on the second floor knew Fallon's habits, including her need to clean the kitchen before cooking in it. If you walked in on Fallon cooking the kitchen, you knew to leave. Just leave.
It didn't take long, however, for the dripping to catch Kimmie's attention, at first only a background noise before the red-head frowned, glancing over at the tap in confusion. "...I swear I turned that off...ugh, not another leaky tap!" she groaned, placing her drink onto the counter as she jumped down, before moving over to twist the knob and turn the tap properly off.
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Posted: Tue Nov 10, 2009 8:53 am
It was never an imposition for Fallon to cook for others. She found it a bit disgusting to watch others eat sub-par meals. Kimmie was a floormate; she would be happy to help. Hell, there were people who Fallon did not care about so much, and she still made meals for them. It was like breathing to her, cooking for others. She nodded in three short beats to Kimmie's response, popping another carrot in her mouth.
And then she heard it.
Drip, drip, drip...
Normally, a good staccato beat was soothing to Fallon, like listening to a metronome. But this noise wasn't perfectly even. There was a sluggishness to the drip, like water leaking from the faucet. Was that what it was? Just as Fallon opened her mouth to complain about the sound, Kimmie was already up and darting to the sink. "It was off when I came in. The faucet was off," she said, setting her carrots down and getting carefully to her feet. Fallon would have noticed if Kimmie had left the sink on, and she would have turned it off.
"This whole place is falling apart. Are they doing construction? It might be pipes dripping in the walls," she said, crossing toward the table. It wasn't unusual for work to be done from time to time at Barren Pines, but Fallon would lose her mind if there was a pipe leaking in the wall. Especially if it persisted into the night.
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 9:45 pm
The knob twisted. The dripping of water ceased --
-- for about two seconds.
Then the drips started up again, even as Kimmie watched. The water coming out this time was a peculiar rust-red colour -- as though it had picked up something in the pipes and was now coming out kind of gross, not the type of water you'd like to put in your hot chocolate. And then, as she watched, the water became more saturated -- grew from that pale brownish colour to pale pink, to pale red -- to red.
To bright red. To thick, artery-coloured blood red, and the drips started to form a collective stream until the tap was actually blasting that appalling -- blood? -- into the sink, staining it.
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 11:42 pm
What? Kimmie tried to turn the tap further to the left but it wouldn't go - this was as far off as it went. She heard Fallon - so she had turned it off properly. So why was it still dripping! Glancing at the liquid, Kimmie frowned, taking a step back and gently tapping Fallon on the shoulder. "Uhh...Fallon? I'm not water-genius...well, I suppose I kinda am...but no, wait! Water's coming from a tap doesn't usually look red, does it?"
She glanced over at her hot chocolate, nose wrinkling. It didn't seem quite as appealing anymore. She'd used water from the kettle, and it had been clean. But still...that water had come from the tap. Fallon mentioned construction problems, but by this time the drips were coming thick and fast, a constant stream of water getting faster and faster. "Fallon, I don't think it's construction problems."
And then suddenly it was blasting into the sink, staining it. Kimmie stumbled a little further back, luckily far enough away to avoid any droplets landing on her brand new t-shirt. Boy, if so much as one drop had landed on it she'd have been marching to the pricipal's office... Wait, situation at hand. Having to shout over the noise the water was making, Kimmie glanced over to Fallon. "MAYBE WE CAN TURN IT OFF FROM THE MAINS?"
The red...well, she had to say it, it looked like blood. But...weirder things had happened, right? She shuddered softly, convincing herself it was just red food colouring some guy had put in to scare a few people.
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Posted: Fri Nov 13, 2009 1:01 pm
Fallon's expression darkened, full lips thinning. She would not take a step forward. If a drop of blood touched her clothing, she would find it difficult to control herself. Already, watching the blood-like water sputtering into the sink made her heart race, frantic, harried beats that brought color to her cheeks and made her mouth dry up. Without responding to Kimmie, she retreated quickly to her carrots, eyes empty. Staring into the little Tupper Ware, she used slim fingers to arrange each one in a perfect line, each vertical right next to the other. After a minute, she finally spoke, "That looks like blood. That looks like blood. That looks like blood." A flurry of compulsions emerged as she struggled to center herself, foot tapping a seemingly erratic beat on the floor.
Fallon wasn't squeamish, but messes made a white hot light sear into the back of her head. It was painful, nauseating. It had little to do with the liquid itself, and much more to do with how the kitchen was being violated. This was not part of Fallon's rules. This was not something she had prepared for. "We don't have access to the mains. We don't have access to the mains. We don't have access to the mains." She got back to her feet, setting the container of carrots back down. Her steps were erratic, like the whole of her was threatening to explode outward.
She should leave. They should get out of there.
Crossing to the door, Fallon turned the handle. "We need to get help. We need to get help. We need to get help." Her voice was a broken record, each repeated line falling and rising with the same cadence as the other. It was a coping mechanism she used when her more preferred options were not easily accessible. Even if the world was falling apart, she could find control in how she used her sentences.
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Posted: Sat Nov 14, 2009 9:38 pm
The substance was still spurting out the tap, going down the plug (thank God) but it had started to smell -- there was the coppery tang in both of their mouths that could only be blood. The sink was spurting blood. The sink wasn't stopping. No matter what, it was gushing out that terrible bright red.
Fallon probably had the right idea.
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Posted: Sun Nov 15, 2009 1:07 am
It was blood. It had to be blood. That smell...she could almost taste it. She shuddered slightly, before glancing over to Fallon, mouth falling open in surprise as she was...organizing her carrots!? What the hell! And then...she spoke. The same thing, many times over. Everyone knew Fallon had OCD, but...but this was quite bad. Kimmie didn't know whether to slap some sense into her, shake her until she stopped or try reassuring her! And all the while there was the splashing sound in the background, a reminder than there was still BLOOD flowing out of the tap.
Her steps were becoming eratic as she spoke again, a different phrase but still repeated, three times. Kimmie grabbed Fallon's shoulders, shaking her gently, trying to...well, she didn't actually know. Fallon seemed pretty calm...but was that just a facade?
Fallon broke free whilst Kimmie dithered, approaching the door, and Kimmie swiftly followed her. Despite her strange sentences, she was finally starting to make sense. "Y-Yeah, c'mon! There's a phone in the lobby - we can call someone from there!"
She wasn't sure whether to mention Fallon's...strange attitude. Perhaps she should just leave the girl to it. Kimmie had a feeling that if she did anything she'd just make it worse.
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Posted: Sun Nov 15, 2009 5:10 am
It was a good thing Kimmie hadn't slapped Fallon. She would have responded by trying to drown her in the sink full of blood. Probably. A little light shake could be handled, and Fallon quickly broke free. Her hand was on the knob, and she turned it, stepping into the hallway and producing a cellphone from her pocket. Fallon's address book in her cellphone was a compendium of information about people. She had the number of her next-door-neighbor's vet just in case she ever had to assist their two cats. She had the number of her first grade teacher, and that of her martial arts instructor from her childhood. And yet, she very rarely called anyone, not even her parents. They didn't answer much anyway.
Using a thumb to scroll down the list of numbers, Fallon kept her eyes locked on the screen, eye twitching every so often. "I have my cell phone," she said, stepping to the outside wall. Fallon needed to get away from the gushing blood, that was all. The scent crept up her nose and sent panic ricocheting through her veins. It was all she could do to focus on the tiny glowing screen of her phone. Any other person might have called the police, but Fallon adhered to the strict protocol of Barren Pines College -- she called the front desk. "I'm calling the front desk," she said, eyes flickering over to Kimmie. The floor assistant's room was just down the way, but Fallon doubted Aggie would be any help.
The phone rang and rang, and Fallon fingered her Star of David necklace, teeth biting in quick beats on the inside of her lip. Out of the room, she was calmer and more in control, her practiced facade slipping easily back into place. Regardless -- no matter what happened, Fallon did not want to step back into the kitchen until the entire issue had been resolved.
She didn't take the time to wonder about the logistics of a sink spurting blood.
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