1 False Security

So, let me get this straight for a second, alright? We've all heard these unbelievable stories. The magical fantasies. The idealistic fairy tales. The iconic happily ever after's. Haven't we? All so sure that it's fake that we call it make believe. Convinced that fantasy is a fallacy. But the question is why. Why do we do it? So, then we can scribble down the analogies in concept of connection to humanities vulnerabilities. We lock ourselves up with the fear of the unknown and disregard of differences as we label them abnormalities. The uncertainty stops immediate unity of people, or culture. Religion, race, color, gender, size, sexual identity, or any separate characteristics and beliefs. What's funny is our play in equitable value. As everyone rushes to an agreement on disagreement. But enough on all the technicalities.

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Bliss. Which is ironic considering it symbolizes a code of similar emotions still unfamiliar to me. Of course, I would be named after something I don't trust exists. It's like a constant taunt of self-identity missing identity of self. Story of my friggin life. Know what's worse? My full name. Bliss Rose Heart. UGH. What a cliché! True, living, breathing torture. Imagine all the elementary school name insults. Now imagine me rolling my eyes. Fast forward to all the high school pick-up name innuendos. "You are everything I need. My heart. My beautiful rose. My... my Bliss." Wow, the creativity. I'm astonished, truly. We are now back to the present. Congrats! I'm sure it was an exhilarating journey leading here.

"Yo, B! Guess whose back?!" Comes the humble, moderately loud, squeal from the front entrance.

Oh, right. Forgot to mention this psychopath, didn't I? Whoops.

"Is it the royal pain in my backside?" I glance up from my laptop just in time to see her eye roll as she locks the door behind her. Then proceeds to walk on over to the couch and plop her big old behind on the space beside me. She peaks over my shoulder and reads what I've spent the last couple hours typing and deleting and typing again. Then plops her head on my shoulder in frustration. Continuing to squint as if it will give her sudden understanding as to what she's attempting to read.

"I feel like I just ran into a net that provided a false sense of security, before entangling me in a web of confusion." She sighs, closing her eyes, and turning her head as to where she would be facing my neck.

"How oddly poetic, princess." I continue typing and editing to try and keep my train of thought on track. Though it's seeming harder lately as I'm not sure how to pursue the topic I'm writing about. It's like I know what I want to say, but I can't find the right way to say it.

"Nope!" She pops her head back up and promptly slams my laptop shut. Right before snagging it out from under my arms. What did I say... Psychopath? Undoubtably.

I just arched a brow at her in response.

"It's your birthday! I'm not allowing you to sit here and waste away in story starters all day!" She gives me her famous "Don't you dare, says mama bear" look. And in turn comes my signature eye roll. You would think the goth girls would lose interest on this, especially when my birthday lands on such an unfortunate day for me. But here we are, living in reverse.

"Alright, goth princess. Suggestions?" I cross my arms, my brow still arched, waiting for her master idea.

"First off, occasionally wearing grunge and liking rock doesn't automatically label me as goth. Secondly, it's Valentines Day! The day of love and all that BS! You should be going out and having fun! Maybe you'll even meet that special someone!" She gives me a playfully flirty wink, which then leads into fluttering lashes meaningfully. Please, end me.

Yup, you read that right. Bliss Rose Heart is a Valentines Day baby. Who would've thought, am I right?

Noticing I still haven't budged, she facepalms and releases a deep breath. "Come on, B. You only turn eighteen once. Why can't you let yourself make the most of it?" And activate sad face with puppy dog eyes on the side. Orders up!

"You went trick or treating with me and your cousins on your eighteenth birthday." I rebuttal sarcastically. The amusing part is that I'm not even lying.

"Candy is my one true love. It's just a bonus that my birthday lands on Halloween." She smiled wholeheartedly. Her eating some type of candy happens just about every other day of the year. Her birthday is just an excuse for her to eat even more.

"Hallelujah." I say as a small grin forms on my lips and amusement dances in my eyes for a fraction of a second, before another eye roll comes into play. "Care to give me my laptop back?"

"Not happening, B. I'm serious, you're here on this thing for hours on end. It's time for a well needed finger rest. So, we're going out. Point blank." She answers straight-faced, stands up with my laptop, and heads into her room. She comes back out not even a minute later empty-handed with her arms crossed. "How about we get something to eat and then we can stop by the zoo for a bit? Let the animal lover inside you be free for a day." She suggests finally.

I hate how well she knows me sometimes. But I would love to go to the zoo and see the aquarium. It's... been a while. "As you wish, princess." I get up and stride over past her on the way to my bedroom. She heads to hers as well to get changed.

Yeesh, I stink.

If you must know my getting ready to leave schedule, so be it. I used the toilet, took a quick shower, threw my dark hair up into a messy bun, brushed my teeth, put some deodorant and lotion on, and got dressed. After getting some slightly ripped faded jeans and a plain black tank on, I took my hair out the bun and brushed it straight down as it reached my lower back. Lastly, shoes.

It's a very basic system, shouldn't trick anybody. I don't wear makeup, so I'm done within an hour.

But I can't say the same for my occasional little grunge human, because she's right. She's not gothic or emo or whatever. On the contrary, when not at some type of rock concert, she is quite the fashionista.

Meaning she probably is still doing her makeup and hasn't gotten anything else done yet.

"Nova! If your not ready in 30 minutes I'm getting right back into my comfy sweats!" I call out as I grab my phone from the nightstand and shove it in my back pocket. Grabbing my keys, I head out my room and into the kitchen near the entrance.

"Calm your tits, B! I'll be out in ten!" Is her first lie of the day. It's never ten minutes with her.

I've known Nova for just about as far back as I can remember. Even while moving around all the time she was the only constant in my life, and I love her like a sister. She is really one of the best friends I could ever ask for. But having her as a roommate, I sometimes question my friendship choices.

Some interesting facts about her. Nova comes from the Latin word new and refers to the creation of a star. Which she won't hesitate to remind me of. In astronomy, it's a star that suddenly becomes thousands of times brighter and then gradually fades to its original intensity. Describes this girls mood swings perfectly in my opinion.

When she was younger, she used to have these fairy tale fantasies about finding a Prince Charming and riding off on horseback into the sunset. She was obsessed with any and all Disney Princess movies. A hopeless romantic, if you will. She still has that childlike spark to her, though not as apparent. Regardless, it's why I call her princess. That and she looks like Ariel from 'The Little Mermaid'. Just modern day style Ariel.

Nova has an adoptive African American gay brother that we both love dearly. He's also 18 and his name is Razi. His mom was best friends with Nova's mom and died upon giving birth to him. Having no other family alive or present she took him in and cared for him just as much as her own blood.

Lastly, Nova's younger twin siblings. Violet and Devin, both eleven and take after their dad. She has a gorgeous family, makes me jealous sometimes. But I'm happy for her, they are all lovely people.

"Roll out the red carpet, I am ready!!" The psycho shouts, opening her door, and exiting in a flamboyant manner. She sashayed over to me like she was engaging in a celebrity catwalk. Then struck a pose.

She decided to stick with a casual white sari blouse and denim skinny jeans with a leather black belt. Touched up with knee high black leather boots and a blue and white native choker with a bone arrowhead. She left her hair mostly down but put in a simple crown braid. And did something around her eyes that darkened them and added fierceness. As well as applied deep red lipstick.

"Rolling with your Indian roots today, huh?" I scanned her from head to toe. She nodded and clapped excitedly with a wide grin and little jumps. I laughed at her enthusiasm. "You look great, princess."

"Thanks, B! And you look naturally flawless as always." She replies as she looks me up and down with genuine pride and approval. Her expression screams proud mama.

"It's jeans and a tank, princess." I roll my eyes playfully.

She stares at me in horror as if I've just committed some type of crime. But didn't ask her to join me. Or if I killed someone and wouldn't let her choose where to hide the body. That betrayed look.

"It's effortless beauty, B." She copies my tone after a beat of silence on her end and confusion on mine. Oh geez, she's dead serious about this too. Psycho isn't a fan of downplay, even if it's accurate.

"Alright, thanks princess. Let's get this over with." I open the front entrance, wait for her to walk out, and then lock the door behind us.