Roseate

Issue 11

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!
            An old white cellphone’s incredibly annoying sirens blared frantically, flashing 8:00 AM in big bolded letters. Pixie’s pale hand crammed the snooze button, begging for her drowsiness to stay one more second. The wailing ceased and she was lying awake; poo. She sat up and watched a dim yellow light flood through her window.
            The sun had risen behind the rows and rows of grayish-brown cubes, she could hear the streets swamped with creatures. Bright-eyed and bushy tailed for the day to get started. Mothers dug through their purses as their crabby children fought against the sidewalk. The mean old car horns flared up at sluggish traffic, as fancy business men in black suits and shiny shoes chatted into their cellphones. Clearly to someone important enough that they could shove their way into anywhere.
            The thick, flowery scent of Pixie’s air freshener on her night stand wrestled with hot meat sweat from food carts below. She had to fight the urge to lay back down and think only about hot dogs. She sniffed and rubbed her eyes, grudgingly tossing her fluffy pink blanket. She sat there for a few seconds, maybe a few minutes, before getting up and headed towards the bathroom.
            Her whirly champagne-colored hair, which had been neatly brushed beforehand, was now a wild lion’s mane as she poked her head stared at the mirror. She snickered. Pixie turned the sink on and splashed a bit of water onto her face; the cold liquid made her cheeks freeze, but she wiped it with her sweater sleeve and glanced at the sink.
            The toothpaste was there, but her toothbrush was gone. She gave a pout at the holder as she started to peer through cabinets and drawers. Still no toothbrush.
            “Pixie! Pixie! Are you up!” The timid, but loud, voice of her Aunt Moony called from downstairs. Pixie remained oblivious as she scanned the pale woody counter; she shook her head and checked the mirror cabinet one more time. A spare 2-pack of white CREST toothpaste and a stained paint cup started back at her. A paintbrush stuck out of it, its bristles spiky and hard from overuse. As well as her toothbrush.
            “Dang it.” she thought. “I just checked there??.”
            Minty green foam fuzzed around her lips as a pair of footsteps echoed outside her bedroom door. The lilac-haired head of her aunt popped in, her luxurious purple locks were tied up into a bun as loose strands coiled around her glasses. She was wearing a wooly green cardigan wrapped around her body, but Pixie could see pearly white pants in the corner of her eye.
            “Mmm,” she gurgled. “Hay Aunth Moonee!”
            Her aunt chuckled and leaned into the door frame. “Hey sis, what do you want for breakfast?” She asked. Pixie thought for a moment, then spat a bubbly green blob into the sink.
            “Whatever you want is fine.” She wiped her mouth.
            “Oh, okay. Well, I got this cool orange looking jam the other day, our neighbor was selling it!”
            “Mrs. Flores? I thought you didn’t like her very much?”
            ​“What? Okay, no she’s just a bit of a grump sometimes. But no, I got it from that little ol’ vampire lady in the lobby.”
            “She sells food?”
            “Yea, she makes it herself? I can make toast?”
            Pixie’s robin eye orbs widened with hunger, nodding her head as she shoved her toothbrush back into her mouth.
            “Well, come downstairs when you’re finished.” Moony continued. “Oh! And please brush your teeth inside the bathroom sis, I know you like to walk around but I don’t want stains on the carpet please.”
            Pixie gave her a thumbs up as she left. She trudged back into the bathroom, quickly finishing up and gurgling a cup of water. She spat to the sink one more time and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Staining the gray loose fabric with water droplets. The sweater had seen better days; the grinning goblin flashed her freckled face a wink. Once holding up a proud banner above its head, the golden words “MERRY MOUNT COLLEGE” now read “ME R OUNT CLEE” in a dull lemon color.
            Pixie stretched the corner of her mouth, her mom liked this sweater.
            The high-pitched squeal of the doorbell broke her thoughts, causing her pointed ear tips to twitch.
            “Pixie!! Can you get that for me please!” Moony called down the stairs.
            “I’m coming!”
            Flying down the hall, she stepped with caution as the oak stairs slipped beneath her sock-covered feet. Tiny milkweed bundles and thorny leaflets littered the railing, making it difficult to grasp as she leaped down the second step. Pixie passed the living room, the sweet smell of her Aunt’s floral decor tickled her nose as she followed the sound of the doorbell.
            “Oh-jeez!” Her Aunty Moony was behind the island, shielding herself from popping oil bubbles. “Hurry please if you can? I’m being attacked!”             Moony squealed again. She went to touch a hot piece of bacon, flipping it with her fingertips as Pixie ran to the door. She swiftly threw her hair behind her ears and unlocked it, only to see nothing there.
            “Uh-excuse me miss?”
            She peered down, seeing a chubby round gnome in gray slacks and a shirt holding up a package. Pixie took the box and curtseyed as best she could, gnome’s valued etiquette but there’s only so much you could do with sweatpants. The little man tipped his hat and waddled off.
            “Hey Aunty, I think this is that laptop you ordered?”
            Moony let out a little “Yus!” as she fumbled with a rubber spatula. Pixie plunked the heavy cardboard onto the barstool and sat down, chuckling at her aunt’s goofy face. She drew a circle in the rings of the tree bark, swirling imaginary patterns on the fine wood as Moony set a blue glass plate in front of her. She squinted at her breakfast for a bit, the runny egg whites were a charred brown color at the ends, with a square of orange buttered toast on the side. Pixie smiled, food was food, plus it smelled awesome.
            “Hey, check it’out! It’s that Greek book we’ve been waiting for!”
            Moony held up a thick hardcover book, a pale stone statue’s blank eyes stared right at Pixie as he prepared to toss a discus. Pixie coughed a bit of her egg up through her mouth, quickly shutting her lips to save from embarrassment. She swallowed and gave a perplexed look at the box.
            ​“Really? I thought I already had it?”
            “Nope, looks like this one was just late! But you have everything else for school now right?”
            ​“Oh…yea I do. I checked this morning.” Pixie gave a slight huffand picked up her fork sourly. She maneuvered the fried egg on top of her toast, tearing it open to let the yellow yoke run. Her Aunt took a similar plate and a cup of steaming coffee, and sat down beside Pixie.
            “So, you woke up early today huh?” Aunt Moony sipped a bit of her coffee.
            “Oh, yea. Figured I’d need to practice for school.”
            She took another sip. “Well that’s good! You have morning classes this year right?” She chuckled.
            “Oh, ya I think so. But doesn’t everybody?”
            “MmM,” She swallowed. “No, sometimes they’re scattered throughout the day. Say, you have a class at 8am, but your next one isn’t until like 3pm.”
            “Oh dang. Okay.”
            Pixie smoothed a strand of golden hair out of her face as she poked a small blop of hash browns. The flaky crust peeling off with each scratch of her fork. She felt a fidgeting rush bubble up in her stomach: the tingling sensation of tiny little nerves poked against her body. It was a faint feeling, but she felt the mental urge to push it back.
            “Well make sure you’re prepared later. Plus, I need you to clean up your room today anyways, Cedar’s coming over for dinner tonight.” She said with a giddy smile.
            At the mention of Cedar, Pixie felt her pointed ear tips wiggle.
            “Noo way! Seriously!”
            “Uh-hey. Mouth closed, please.”
            Cedar was Aunty Moony’s boyfriend, someone Pixie had only seen on her phone screen when Moony sent pictures in her mom’s group chat.
            ​Pixie covered her mouth as she swallowed, taking a swing of orange juice. She had wondered what it might be like to have a boyfriend. Her racing mind started to slow as adorable thoughts of bubblegum pink roses against a cloudy blue sky drifted in. Movie theater dates with greasy popcorn butter, or late night calls with the city lights dotting the dark. A handsome smile to greet her everyday sounded like the best thing the universe had to offer.
            After all, she was eighteen. That seemed like a good age to start. Plus, Gran said dating was fun.
            “Now you have everything for your classes, right?” Aunty Moony picked up a forkful of hashbrowns as she talked.
            ​The dream fizzled and popped like a deflated balloon.
            “Well, yea I think so.”
            “Well I just want you to be prepared is’all. Your mom texted me earlier and sent me a link to the Student Services office. It’s right next to your first class at that Art-Building-thing, so if you need any help you should–” Aunty Moony nagged and nagged as Pixie carried her dishes to the sink. Carefully stacking them on top of a larger dinner plate. The dishes were covered in watery food mush from last night’s dinner, Pixie found herself grimacing at the squashed green bean pods and chicken crumbs.
            “Don’t worry, I’m gonna be fine.” She rounded the island and planted a soft kiss on her aunt’s cheek.
            Pixie grabbed the thick textbook off the counter, the fresh case wrap leaving invisible bits of powder all along the fingertips. She brushed them together before wiping them on her pants, sitting across the kitchen at the lounge chair and plopping her book down. Her mother had always said she was a smart girl, which shocked Pixie to this day since she had always been a B or C+ kind of girl. Maybe an A here or there, but they were usually elective classes. Either way, Ma was always an optimist.
            The day she received a letter from Merry Mount Academy of Arts, Pixie thought they were both going to pee their pants. Not only was it instate, but it was also one of the more well-known art schools in New Block. At least enough to get her a job of fame.
            ​Aunty Moony was already an urbanite, so living it up in Big NBC wouldn’t have been a very big problem. But there was a problem, and Pixie wasn’t happy.
            The corner of her lips dropped down, and Pixie felt the bubbles rise and pop in her stomach. The tingling sensation spread all around her body: dipping down into her toes and then up again through her shoulders. It crept along her arms like running water, making her fingertips sad and anxious. The feeling made its way up to her cheeks, making them flushed and Pixie was shocked at the hit to the face.
            Small bags of water droplets threatened to break from Pixie’s will. She blinked once, then twice, and bits of hot water dripped down her cheeks.
            “Okay, so I- Pixie?!” Pixie heard her aunt exclaim, tearing up from the bar stool as it screeched against the floors. Pixie rushed to cover her face, sheiling her tears with her worn wooly fabric, but Moony embraced her in her plush arms as Pixie slowly looked up. Staring at Aunty with the wrinkled face of a 5-year-old child.
            “Oh sis, what’s the matter! Why are you crying?” Moony rushed around the counter and swept her niece in her big soft arms, pushing the soft fabric of Pixie’s sweater against her face. With her small stature, Pixie couldn’t see, but she didn’t care. She clamped her mouth shut, hoping to stop her lips from quivering, but couldn’t say anything lest she wanted to babble too.
            She honestly felt silly. No. She felt stupid. An 18-year-old woman crying just because she has to go to school next week, a school she applied to. Frankly, it was embarrassing. The fact alone made her want to curl up in the bathroom and hide for awhile, but there was no escaping Moony’s comforting grip. She smoothed back Pixie’s hair and sat down on the seat of the rustic armchair.
            “Pixie,” she asked. “C’mon, why are you upset?” Pixie sniffed and looked away, she felt Moony let go and lean against her, gently pressing her weight until Pixie couldn’t hold it anymore. They both giggled as they squeezed into the little chair.
            “Alright-now why are you so upset? You were fine earlier?”
            Pixie puffed a heap of air out of her cheeks.
            “Is it girl hormones?”
            “Maybe. Y’know what, probably is.”
            “Well that’s not really an answer. Or nowait-I guess it can be.”
            Pixie chuckled, pulling herself up from the leather seat.
            “Well, I just don’t think I’m ready yet.”
            “For what? For school?”
            “Well, yea. I guess so.” She stared down at her fingertips and rubbed her bare keratin. “I know it’ll be a lot. It’s just there's so much walking, and I to find out where everything is without being late! And I know I’m gonna have to be prepared all the time since it’s college and you have to do everything by yourself. Plus, I’m an art major so there might be a lot of homework anyways since I’ve never been good at-”
            Aunt Moony shushed her for a short minute, cutting off her sentence as she stood up and pulled her cardigan closer.
            “You’re just new to this. You shouldn’t freak out when school is only a few days away. But you shouldn't not tell me when you’re freaking out! I mean- you’re literally hours away from your parents sis, I know it’s a lot!”
            Pixie brushed fair yellow strands out of her face, parting from the makeshift curtain. Her father’s eyes swelled with tears as he too blocked the melancholy. Her mother didn’t even try at all, she was a weeping mandrake. She was holding Pixie like she just bumped her head, smothering her with kisses as her aunt laughed in her face.
            The car was fully loaded with cardboard cubes of all shapes and sizes, Pixie’s chicken-scratch scribbles dotting every single box. No doubt they were sad too; seeing their little girl leave the nest, without their supervision each and every day. Sure she wasn’t alone, but it’s not like Pixie had kids.    They were all feeling the same thing. She wondered if they were feeling okay.
            “Besides,” Moony sat up and pulled her cardigan closer. “I’m new to this too, I don’t exactly have any kids running around. But we’re both here to help each other figure it out right?”
            Pixie nodded; “Yea, I guess you’re right.” Her nose puffed up from crying, slightly cracking as she rubbed it back into shape with her sleeve. She drew a slow deep breath, the air felt cooler than her face, breezing back against her freckled cheeks.
            “Hey Aunty, I’m gonna go call my mom real quick.”
            She chuckled, “Yea okay. Tell her I said hi too.”
            Pixie was already at the staircase, shooting a thumbs up and a brief “Okay!” behind her as she thumped up the steps. She had forgotten her phone in her room, not the first time, but it was okay.

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ELAINA JAIME is a university student at Arizona State University, having studied as a Creative Writing major for three years. Up until this coming year, where she is studying as a Literature major.

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