Step Two

            It only took three nights of work for me to be able to afford a shower. Finally, I could stop smelling like the bottom of a dumpster. Although, I think irreparable damage had been done to the itchy blankets on my bed.

            I hoped that a deer was the only witness to my first proper shower in the hick town. The water felt blissful, which took me by surprise. It’d been the cheapest shower I could find, pressure barely more than a strong dribble and temperature refusing to go above frigid. Still, it felt better than some of the baths I’d taken in luxury spas.

            I could not quite afford a refrigerator yet, so the festival still beckoned my growling stomach. As I briskly walked the quick skip of a distance, my mind wandered to what I would need to do next in order to have my proper life back. Sure, the shower had been uplifting, but that didn’t mean I belonged in such a humdrum life. Words crawled into my head and I was sure it was that damn witch’s doing. “Step Two:” it started. “Find a mate.”

            I pondered my next hurdle while licking away at breakfast. It was hard enough for me to look at the monstrous face masking my own in the mirror every morning. What man in their right mind would stare at it and want to kiss it?

           A strong body and luscious blonde hair caught my attention. Underneath it all, I was still Vienna DeMarco, star of hundreds of love scenes. I knew who I really was, and perhaps that might be enough to win over some idiot.

            I sauntered up to the handsome man the best I could in my out-of-style loafers. Before I could even introduce myself, he laughed. It made me uncomfortable, thinking that he was probably going to ridicule my appearance, but he challenged me to a water balloon game instead.

            He launched balloon after balloon at me, showing no mercy in his throwing arm. It hurt and left my clothes uncomfortably soaked, yet I continued on with our game. It was the only thing I had going for me.

            I spoilt every one of the limited chances I had to hit him back. “C’mon,” he called. “Even you must be able to get me at least once!”

            With eyes closed tightly, I threw a particularly heavy balloon at him just as he was finishing the word ‘once.’ By the oomph sound he made, I knew I had hit him. I tried out my signature giggle, expecting him to share the laugh and tell me what a good job I had done. Instead, he began to walk away without a word.

            I followed him to the wooden fence, apologizing all the way. He never looked back at me, not even as he dipped into his rusted car and drove away.

            I dived hard into my spirit capturing that night, trying to zap away his stupid face from my mind. I could feel my ears burn every time I had a moment to revisit my utter failure of attracting a man. He hadn’t even been that impressive. If I had still been the real me, I would have blasted him on social media, making sure the next few years of his life would be a real hell. Even worse than the one in which I was stuck.

            My vigorous work of distracting myself paid off quite well. I had enough to purchase a refrigerator with a bit left over in my pocket.

            I caught myself smiling once while I enjoyed a bowl of cold soup.