> Pacific Time, 6:50 P.M

  Rosy laughed as Carol once again performed another stunt, a really stupid stunt. How exactly does a person balance like that? As high as Rosy's bodily-kinesthetic intelligence was, she couldn't grasp the idea that Carol hadn't hit the floor yet. She could imagine a thud and broken glass strewn everywhere. It was straight out of circus. Carol had managed to balance three beer bottles, one on top of the other while using her hand to balance on the tower of glass, performing a one armed hand-stand. Her legs were straightened out and pointed to the wine colored sky, and to top it off, her purse balancing on the tips of her toes. 

"Carol if you fall, Im going to kill you"

"You wouldn't"

"I would"

  Both giggled, Rosy was already on her second beer, while Carol remained persistently sober. Maybe it was a good thing Carol turned down the beer, lord knows how Carol would have landed if drunk. Rosy had tried her best to get her friend to open up alcohol. Carol always refused, whether it was because she hated the taste, or because she wasn't the drinking type, Rosy's efforts were always futile. A couple months ago, Rosy ended up with a drenched face of bourbon. They had a small altercation, but things turned out just fine.

"I swear Carol, get your ass down from there already"

"What If I don't want to"

"Ill leave"

"I was expeting you to say something along the lines of- 'Ill get you down myself' "

"No, Id rather not deal with you" Rosy teased.

  The crashing waves from behind Rosy brought her to turn and gaze at the wide ocean. Rosy's eyes softened, she felt peaceful, like she could lay down and be apart of the soft sand itself. Seagulls called to wind and dipped up and down, looking for any left-over bits of food people may have left behind. Taking another sip from the bottle, she sighed and sat down, "Are you going to watch"? Rosy spoke looking at some of the small twinkling stars that barely surfaced from the pool of violet. 

"What happened to "Ill leave", I thought you would'nt want to deal with me"

"I changed my mind, seriously, are you going to watch or not"?

"Didn't take you for the type to watch sunsets"

"I like sunsets"

"Guess Ill join you"

  Ever so carefully, Carol made her way down from her death defying tower, and with a skip she plopped comfortably next to Rosy. "You do seem a little different you know" Carol quietly said. "Its like theres something going on that you aren't telling me", Carol leaned back on her arms, and crossed her legs and tried her best to relax. Rosy turned, "Its really nothing, fights are just getting rougher thats all". 

  Rosy fidgeted with her hands, "I know you're concerned okay, and I get it, If I had a friend I would try to see what wrong too". "Trust me when I say things are okay, I would tell you in a heartbeat if things weren't". Carol took a second to observe Rosy in silence, everything from her long thick locks of hair, dyed like the flames of a fire, with oranges, yellows, and reds, to her soft peachy skin, the black eyeliner surroundig her striking icy eyes of blue.

  Admiration? No, it was more than that, It was something deeper, but not as superficial as lust. Guilt knawed at her soul like a dog with a bone, she longed to have a day to pour out her feelings. But she was bubbling over like water in a pot. One day, maybe one day things would get to that point. But for now, she would have to wait for Rosy. Rosy would open up to her in time, she had to, when was she going to tell her what was wrong? Maybe then, no, exactly then Carol would have a real chance at love. But she was getting so impatient...

"Stare much"

  Carol blinked, "My bad, just zoning out" she chuckled. Carol fixed her own short hair, she didn't care much for long hair like Rosy. But like Rosy, she too dyed her hair, a dull blue-violet. "Rosy, I think I've stared at the sunset enough already, it's getting cold". That wasn't true, Carol wanted to stay right next to Rosy, and she was feeling quite warm from her own feelings. But wasn't it necessary to end things like this right now, she felt that she should, this is what people do don't they?

"Yeah I guess you're right, this is pretty boring"

"Do you want to go for Karaoke"?

"And humiliate myself while you awkwardly watch"

"Yes you suck at singing, but that doesn't mean we can't improve that"

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

"No"

"Come on Rosy, ill sing if you sing"

"You can sing, your great at it, I though, can't sing"

"But-"

"If I sang, I would drown out your voice with my walrus wail-"

  A punch to Rosy's arm stopped her from continuing. Carol retracted her hand, she hit her hard, but Rosy seemed unfazed. "Was that supposed to do something"? A grumble and a few seconds later, "shut up, you and your biceps". Carol shook out her hand, that kinda hurt. Who knew muscles could be that dense, Carol would never be able to take her in a fight. Carol huffed, and sat up, dusting some sand from her shorts. She held out her arm for Rosy to grab. Amused, Rosy snorted, "Like you could pull me up If you tried".

  Rosy did eventually get up, and followed Carol to a karaoke/barbeque restuarant. It was a nice place, the type of place you could goof off with a group of friends, or host a birthday party for your kid. But it was just the two of them that entered. Rosy groaned, 'karaoke? seriously', 'It couldn't have been anything else'. Carol ushered Rosy to one of the karaoke rooms, "Lets get started"! she enthusiatically cheered.

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      Rosy was having trouble sleeping that night, there were all sorts of thoughts plaguing her mind at that witching hour. She rubbed the sides of her face in irritation, she took a shower, had some good food, sung her heart out during karaoke,  excersized her ass off. How can she not be tired? Her racing thougts refused to quiet down, they were like a constant hammering in her consciousness. Maybe she was just paranoid... She was probably just paranoid from yesterday. But nothing had happened yesterday.

  Then it was probably something that Basil said the day before, "You know, my sister has a huge crush on you". Rosy laughed it off at that time, and assured Basil that she didn't mind that her sister. How could she be bothered by it when she didn't even know who her sister was. It was better not to know, and if she did, it would be pretty awkward if that person confessed, only then would she be bothered by it. How would she handle it? She was straight as far as she knew, unless she wasn't. Rosy blinked, "what type of intrustive thoughts are Satan giving me tonight".

  She pointlessly raised her arm above her head, it was still sore, she was still sore. Sore about the fact that she didn't tell Carol a word. Rosy felt guilty, Carol was really worried about her right? "Well brain I guess that you win". Rosy slowly arose from her bed like a corpse. She stretched her arms and legs at odd angles and lifted her midsection like she was being pulled by an invisible string. Finally feeling fit eought to get up, she swung both her legs off the bed. 

  Placing both feet firmly on the floor she painstakingly made her way to the window and opened it. "Pretty cool out there". She rubbed her eyes, and gazed at some of the other apartments in that area. Some of them had their curtains open. A guy playing his console, two people talking, someone watching TV. Someone else was playing faint music. Rosy, moved away from the window and trudged to the hallway, only to stop in horror..

  Rosy stared, it was bright, yellow, ugly and revolting despite being nothing more than small squares of paper. Dozens upon dozens of sticky notes, littered on her wall. Some had doodles, some had words, and some had nothing. Words like "soft", "adorable", "kind". And others much more strange, but still threatening "Speak Speak Speak Speak Speak" "SHRIEK!", "I can and I will", "FIGHT". Doodles of punching bags, boxing gloves, and stick figures with her name. The empty ones were a different color and seperate from the rest, they were a bright orange and arranged like a question mark. The last orange sticky note representing the dot of the question mark had the following words in neat handwriting : "Didn't you like it"?

  All of it, pasted everywhere on her wall, some things were vandalized, with glitter and star stickers. Others like the chairs, the lamp, and the dining table where placed upside down. She inhaled slow steady breaths, she wasn't sure if it was her bristling anger at the blatant disrespect of her home, or if it was the creeping fear that she was definitely not going to be able to handle this herself. 

  It was just like last time, someone was here. Rosy rushed back to her room, she pushed her swivel chair out of the way and dropped to her knees. "Where the fuck is my bat". She half-whispered. Amidst the dark, she felt something long and metallic. She remembered the door, and then spun to her right, locking it securely. Like she was going to go out there without some form of protection.

  There it was. This time, she was going to confront that person and break their kneecaps. Rosy got back to her original position to search for the bat once more. Once she found tha familiar coolness of stainless steel, she gripped it in her hand like a life-line and stood back up, feeling much less sluggish, and much more awake and alive. Rosy planned to charge but suddenly stopped at the door. 'What if this happened hours ago?'. Rosy shivered, and instead, she went to her drawer and took out the phone. It was time to dial the police for a second time. 

  Her fingers were once again feverish, they trembled, Rosy debated whether or not to just suck it up and investigate to see if anyone was around or lock herself up in her room and wait for the police. The second option was surely safer, but Rosy could fight, she knew how, no doubt, she could take a punch. But what if they were armed? What would she do then? She could get shot or stabbed. There are no rules for criminals like them, no fair play.  Her breathing quickened, every little detail was harshly making embedding itself into her senses.

  The creak in the walls, the ominous brush of the wind against her skin, the steady heartbeat in her chest, oddly enough the neighbors voices where much louder, when they seemed so much quieter before. She froze, does she want to dial the phone? Rosy took another deep breath and closed her eyes. No, she didn't. She turned off the phone, she will call the police in due time, but right now, Rosy had a score to settle. 

  Then she heard it, the most pivotal moment of her life from that day forth. A few stumbling footsteps from behind her bed. Her feet stuck to the floor like magnets, as if a current had shocked every nerve ending of her body and forced her to remain still. Anxiety, it was an ugly word. The figure was making its way towards Rosy now, unbeknowst to Rosy, it purposley dragged its feet along the floor to emit a more dangerous sentiment. Then from right behind Rosy, it stopped, it knew not to get too close, Rosy could be worse than an injured animal. Quietly, through the distoted voice modifier, it spoke a single line.

"Its called consternation right"?

Rosy turned to land the first blow right to the face with her fist.