LJ Idol Three Strikes: Prompt 5 - Kuchisabishii
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She wiped the tears away. She’d always told herself she would never cry over any man, even one as seemingly perfect as he had been. She had been so wrapped up in him for so long, she had forgotten that no one was perfect.
Well, almost no one anyway.
She picked up a new tissue from the box and cast a watery smile over at her very best friend in the entire world, the one friend who had been in her life for as long as she could remember and who had never, ever let her down.
“You’re perfect, Rit,” she said out loud as she dabbed her eyes with the tissue. “And no one can ever tell me otherwise.”
Rit didn’t answer. Just sat beside her, her presence a comfort and a joy as it always was.
Bethany leaned back and closed her eyes, tried to forget all about the man who so rudely broke her heart.
She let the minutes tick by, the only sound an occasional sniffle from Bethany.
Finally, she opened her eyes and turned once more to her friend.
“Thanks, Rit, for being here,” she said, and she reached out her hand and dragged her friend toward her.
--
Everyone said it was Bethany’s mom’s fault. She was the one, after all, who insisted on going to the secluded cabin during the dead of winter when she was eight months pregnant, ignoring the advice of every weather person on tv and on the internet who predicted the worst storm in thirty years was approaching. And worse, ignoring the advice of her own grandmother, who swore on her arthritic knee that the storm was indeed approaching faster than anyone expected.
“This will be bad! So bad!” Bethany’s great-grandmother had supposedly cried, waving her arms around.
“How bad can it be?” Bethany’s mom had supposedly said in return as she swung an overnight bag over her shoulder, but Bethany believed it. That was the type of thing her mother always said.
“How hard can it be?” she’d said before agreeing to cater a dinner for fifty people, even though she’d been in the catering business for less than a year. “How bad can it be?” she’d said about the arm she broke in six places falling out of tree while trying to put up the Christmas lights one year.
So off Bethany’s mother went that day, daring the sunny skies - as she forever came to tell the story - to defy her. But defy her they did, and eight hours later, she was huddled down in a tiny cabin with no electricity and no working water with her own mother and her best friend as she screamed in pain from the contractions that had snuck up on her as quickly as the weather had changed (or so Bethany’s mom had always claimed).
The storm and Bethany’s mom’s contractions raged all night long, her screams in tangent with the roaring winds outside (again, as Bethany’s mom liked to put it. Bethany always did think her mother had quite the flair for the dramatic).
And in the morning, when the storm gave way to sunny skies as quickly as it had come, so did a tiny baby girl enter the world.
“It’s so perfect,” Bethany’s mom had said, looking down at her wailing daughter, and Bethany had wondered her whole life, every time she heard the story, if her mom had meant her or the symbolism of the entire day.
Either way, Bethany’s mom and Bethany’s grandmother and Bethany’s mom’s best friend were stuck in a secluded little cabin with no water and no electricity and no way to get to a hospital through the mounds and mounds of snow piled up.
So they had to make do. They used fresh snow to clean Bethany up, and they gathered as many blankets from around the cabin as they could to keep Bethany and themselves warm, but Bethany’s mom didn’t like that the blankets were so big and Bethany was so tiny.
“She needs something tiny, just like her,” Bethany’s mom supposedly said, and that, according to Bethany’s mom, is when she went into the kitchen and returned with one of the jumbo size tortillas that Bethany’s mom’s grandmother had given them before they left (along with a scowl and a scolding about how “dumb and crazy” they were being).
Bethany’s mom wrapped her tiny baby daughter up in the giant-size tortilla, turning her into a literal human burrito, and stared down at her lovingly.
“Just perfect,” she said, supposedly. “Like they were meant to be together.”
Bethany stayed in that tortilla for four days, until the snow melted enough that Bethany’s mom, Bethany’s grandmother and Bethany’s mom’s best friend were finally able to unbury the car and head back to civilization, where they took Bethany to the hospital and the nurse remarked that the tortilla blanket was the most creative invention she’d ever seen.
(Bethany did not actually believe a single tortilla lasted four days, unless her mom had some secret witch powers she didn’t know about, nor did she believe a nurse would have said such a thing, but her mother insisted and so it became part of the family lore.)
But from that day on, the one thing that was true was Bethany’s love of burritos - burritos she could eat, burrito toys she could play with, a plush burrito she slept with, burrito images on her favorite pajamas and even a picture of an overflowing, messy burritos framed and hanging on the walls of her childhood bedroom.
Burritos everywhere, filling her life with comfort and joy, as only they could.
--
Bethany looked now at her best friend now, dangling in her hands.
“You really have always been here for me, Rit,” she told her.
She took a last moment to admire her. The hugeness of her size, the way she was stuffed to the max, some of her beans and cheese already seeping out.
Bethany smiled again at her very best friend in the entire world, so grateful she was always here for her during her times of need.
“Thank you, Rit,” Bethany said sincerely. “For everything.”
And then she took a bite.
Fiction. Inspired by this meme:
This was written for therealljidol Three Strikes Mini Season. If you liked my entry, please consider voting for me! You should also go read all the other amazing entries. You can find them all here. Voting should be up Saturday night!
She wiped the tears away. She’d always told herself she would never cry over any man, even one as seemingly perfect as he had been. She had been so wrapped up in him for so long, she had forgotten that no one was perfect.
Well, almost no one anyway.
She picked up a new tissue from the box and cast a watery smile over at her very best friend in the entire world, the one friend who had been in her life for as long as she could remember and who had never, ever let her down.
“You’re perfect, Rit,” she said out loud as she dabbed her eyes with the tissue. “And no one can ever tell me otherwise.”
Rit didn’t answer. Just sat beside her, her presence a comfort and a joy as it always was.
Bethany leaned back and closed her eyes, tried to forget all about the man who so rudely broke her heart.
She let the minutes tick by, the only sound an occasional sniffle from Bethany.
Finally, she opened her eyes and turned once more to her friend.
“Thanks, Rit, for being here,” she said, and she reached out her hand and dragged her friend toward her.
--
Everyone said it was Bethany’s mom’s fault. She was the one, after all, who insisted on going to the secluded cabin during the dead of winter when she was eight months pregnant, ignoring the advice of every weather person on tv and on the internet who predicted the worst storm in thirty years was approaching. And worse, ignoring the advice of her own grandmother, who swore on her arthritic knee that the storm was indeed approaching faster than anyone expected.
“This will be bad! So bad!” Bethany’s great-grandmother had supposedly cried, waving her arms around.
“How bad can it be?” Bethany’s mom had supposedly said in return as she swung an overnight bag over her shoulder, but Bethany believed it. That was the type of thing her mother always said.
“How hard can it be?” she’d said before agreeing to cater a dinner for fifty people, even though she’d been in the catering business for less than a year. “How bad can it be?” she’d said about the arm she broke in six places falling out of tree while trying to put up the Christmas lights one year.
So off Bethany’s mother went that day, daring the sunny skies - as she forever came to tell the story - to defy her. But defy her they did, and eight hours later, she was huddled down in a tiny cabin with no electricity and no working water with her own mother and her best friend as she screamed in pain from the contractions that had snuck up on her as quickly as the weather had changed (or so Bethany’s mom had always claimed).
The storm and Bethany’s mom’s contractions raged all night long, her screams in tangent with the roaring winds outside (again, as Bethany’s mom liked to put it. Bethany always did think her mother had quite the flair for the dramatic).
And in the morning, when the storm gave way to sunny skies as quickly as it had come, so did a tiny baby girl enter the world.
“It’s so perfect,” Bethany’s mom had said, looking down at her wailing daughter, and Bethany had wondered her whole life, every time she heard the story, if her mom had meant her or the symbolism of the entire day.
Either way, Bethany’s mom and Bethany’s grandmother and Bethany’s mom’s best friend were stuck in a secluded little cabin with no water and no electricity and no way to get to a hospital through the mounds and mounds of snow piled up.
So they had to make do. They used fresh snow to clean Bethany up, and they gathered as many blankets from around the cabin as they could to keep Bethany and themselves warm, but Bethany’s mom didn’t like that the blankets were so big and Bethany was so tiny.
“She needs something tiny, just like her,” Bethany’s mom supposedly said, and that, according to Bethany’s mom, is when she went into the kitchen and returned with one of the jumbo size tortillas that Bethany’s mom’s grandmother had given them before they left (along with a scowl and a scolding about how “dumb and crazy” they were being).
Bethany’s mom wrapped her tiny baby daughter up in the giant-size tortilla, turning her into a literal human burrito, and stared down at her lovingly.
“Just perfect,” she said, supposedly. “Like they were meant to be together.”
Bethany stayed in that tortilla for four days, until the snow melted enough that Bethany’s mom, Bethany’s grandmother and Bethany’s mom’s best friend were finally able to unbury the car and head back to civilization, where they took Bethany to the hospital and the nurse remarked that the tortilla blanket was the most creative invention she’d ever seen.
(Bethany did not actually believe a single tortilla lasted four days, unless her mom had some secret witch powers she didn’t know about, nor did she believe a nurse would have said such a thing, but her mother insisted and so it became part of the family lore.)
But from that day on, the one thing that was true was Bethany’s love of burritos - burritos she could eat, burrito toys she could play with, a plush burrito she slept with, burrito images on her favorite pajamas and even a picture of an overflowing, messy burritos framed and hanging on the walls of her childhood bedroom.
Burritos everywhere, filling her life with comfort and joy, as only they could.
--
Bethany looked now at her best friend now, dangling in her hands.
“You really have always been here for me, Rit,” she told her.
She took a last moment to admire her. The hugeness of her size, the way she was stuffed to the max, some of her beans and cheese already seeping out.
Bethany smiled again at her very best friend in the entire world, so grateful she was always here for her during her times of need.
“Thank you, Rit,” Bethany said sincerely. “For everything.”
And then she took a bite.
Fiction. Inspired by this meme:
This was written for therealljidol Three Strikes Mini Season. If you liked my entry, please consider voting for me! You should also go read all the other amazing entries. You can find them all here. Voting should be up Saturday night!