Penny woke up that Saturday morning not feeling very well. Her stomach twisted and turned, with vile rising in her throat once in a while, however, never escaping her stomach. Even though she was still in bed, she laid with eyes wide open and brought her hands to her mouth, to chew the skin off around her fingernails. The only thing that got her out of bed that morning was the fact that she started to bleed.
Once discovering the thick red substance dripping down her finger, she shot out of bed and straight to the bathroom. Turning on the sink and watching the blood fade into a paler shade, it was like she wasn't herself for a second. Her thoughts were filled with other things since the scene was so familiar.
The shower washing away the cuts on her skin, her hands helping helping push the dirty water away. She was careful of the open wounds and bruises. A black towel hung right outside the bathroom.
The sink ran cold water, much like how the sink in her New York bathroom is right now. However, in the past, there was more blood.
And Penny had no cuts on her hands.
She took a second to look at herself in the mirror. Instead of clean, fresh face that she would normally see in the morning. It was a face, with a little splatters and droplets of blood. It wasn't her blood. A black towel rested beside her.
She gasps and covers her mouth. A beat later, her face was how she expected: clean. No more blood ran from her fingers into the sink and a pure white towel rested across a silver ring on the wall.
Once again she feels the stomach pains and the urge to put something to occupy her mouth started again. She resisted the urge, but her mouth still had the urge to do something, anything. Her body decided to grind her teeth. Her legs and hands started to shake uncontrollable. It wasn't a huge, concerning shake, rather it was little and quick movements that could only be seen by a trained eye.
Taken aback by her flashbacks, she splashes the sink water across her face. She wiped the water away from her cuts, careful not to get blood on the towel. Looking through all the drawers, she finally found the boxes of Band-Aids and wrapped it around her finger.
Today, she was going back to the director of the musical, but not to the stage, to the rehearsal space. She was also going to meet some of the cast, particularly her romantic interest. Thinking about it all made her stomach twist worse. First impressions were not an easy thing. This guy has also worked with some real talent on Broadway.
Penny was excited to meet someone with such skill, but nerves overpowered it all.
She decided to stay in the bathroom to put on her makeup and do her hair. She tried to take some deep breaths throughout the process, but did nothing.
Geez, I'm going to have to figure out a better way to help me, she thought to herself as she holds her jaw in pain from clenching too much.
Looking through her closet, she found a very basic New York outfit: light-wash jeans and a chunky gray turtleneck sweater. It was so cold, it could snow any minute. She decided to wear some plain white sneakers, since she decided to walk to the building. It was only fifteen minutes away. She hoped the walk in the cold, city air would sooth her.
She looks at herself in her mother's old mirror. However, the crack distorted her body, not by much, but enough for her to give up on checking her appearance.
The meeting was at eleven, and Penny still had time for breakfast. Walking down the stairs, expecting her to hear, "Want some coffee?"
Instead, she walks downstair to nothing.
That's right, Ms. Birdie is back in San Francisco, she reminded herself. She feels her heart squeeze, missing her only family.
Well, that's not completely true. She has the whole Romano family with her, beside her, whether she realizes it or not. Yesterday, Penny wasn't feeling the love with Daniel Romano. However, he only had the best intentions in mind for her. He just has, and alway will, have a problem with his temper.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl He Had To Marry- An Arranged Marriage Story
Romance**COMPLETED AND EDITING** A man was murdered in his home, leaving only his daughter Penelope Marshall. He was a power-hungry, company-owning man that can barely be called a father. After Penelope's mother left, her father preferred fists and harsh...
