It was certainly true, what they
said, about the number 1. It was the loneliest number Mariah had ever known
also. Not that she’d intended to be the only one in the kitchen as she stepped
up to the cake.
Her mother was off doing who knows
what, and Mariah didn’t feel like wrestling with her. She’d tried to call
Andre, but he and Kelci were at some dinner party her dad was throwing for the
big wigs in his company. If she’d wanted to, she could have called Roger. He
would have been here in a heartbeat she knew, but something held her back. And
so it was her, and only her, celebrating her birthday.
A particularly heavy roll of thunder dully shook the window panes.
At least the weather mimicked how
Mariah was feeling. The sun was still out revealing a blazing sunset, but the
sudden downpour was gloomy and dreary, muting the brilliance of light.
Shrugging a little, Mariah watched
the smoke from her candles drift upward. Oh well. If nothing else, she was
graduating tomorrow, finishing with school forever. That was something at least.
Well,
uh, look out world. Here I come, was Mariah’s wry thought to herself as she
posed, trying to get used to her new body.
Oh, who was she kidding anyway? It
was high time she got used to being alone in the big house, doing things by
herself, for herself. She was being pathetic! Wanting someone else to be here?
Puh.
Feeling useless because she had no
one to take care of since her mother was actually being active, for once? That
shouldn’t be bothering her! She should be happy! She wasn’t a teenager any
longer!
And so she sat to nibble at her
cake, trying not to think about how many more empty hours had to pass before
graduation tomorrow, before Andre would come to say his goodbyes, before her
mother would pass leaving her truly, and utterly, alone.
-- -- -- --
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
-- -- -- --
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
-- -- -- --
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Mariah checked the stove for the
umpteenth time that day with the burner ON. She’d been so nauseous though!
Surely the stove wasn’t getting hot enough and so she was eating undercooked
foods. Then she’d get worms. And mutant bacteria. And she’d die an agonizingly
painful death in the hospital while news channels obsessed over her grizzly
demise, using it as a warning to all other sims to properly cook their food.
Yet no matter how much she checked
the temperatures on all her cooked foods with a food thermometer, the nausea
persisted.
It could also all be chalked up to
losing her mother. Waves of grief would also hit her at random moments.
Of course, a lot of that could be
guilt over selling off so many of her mother’s precious collectables shortly
before she died.
Layla had emerged from her room, took one look at the bare
floors and thin shelves before suddenly expiring. Mariah was sure it was her
fault. She shouldn’t have changed things around. She knew it was traumatic for
some people in her mother’s condition to have things suddenly change.
The worst was when the nausea and
the guilt of grief would hit at the same time. When she’d gone to visit her
parents’ graves to lay flowers she almost thought she’d have to find a bush the
nausea was so bad.
Slowly, Mariah adjusted to being on
her own. Roger would call occasionally to give her updates on how Police
Academy was going for him and she began to think about getting a job herself.
Maybe the tedium was causing the nausea?
Or maybe not.
-- -- -- --
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
I Don't
Is Over
I Can't
Never Wanted
The
End
Massaging her temples, Mariah read
through the letter in front of her again. Again, the words slipped through her mind
leaving only traces of their meaning behind. If only the pounding might stop,
maybe she could focus.
“Dammit, Mariah!” Roger’s voice
boomed out after beating fiercely on the door for the umpteenth time.
“I can see you through the windows! And
I hear you crying! Let.Me.In!”
A few hiccupping sobs was the only
reply she would give him though. Or could give him either.
“I know your mom is gone,” Roger’s
voice finally had softened enough for her to hear the slight catch. “I’m sorry
I wasn’t able to be here for you. But Academy is over and I’m here now. Please let me in.”
Judging by his shadow, Mariah
assumed he’d put his forehead against the glass and she scoffed. Wouldn’t this
all be so much simpler if it were only about her mother?
“Please, ‘Riah.”
Sighing heavily, she rolled her
eyes. Maybe if she just let him in he’d see the mess she’d created for herself. And then he’d go away. And then
she could figure out just what the letter was saying, determine how bad it all actually was.
And despite herself, she was
curious. She hadn’t seen him since graduation. How had he changed after
training to join the police force?
“If you don’t open this door by the
time I count to five, I’ll break it down!”
There was no need for that. And so she hefted herself out of
her chair, slowly, trying to keep her precarious balance.
But she was too late. She’d barely
taken 2 steps when Roger finally tried the unlocked door knob and came crashing
in, nearly falling himself.
Well, Police Academy hadn’t made him
that much more coordinated. Oh well.
Eyes closed, she took a deep breath,
trying to give him time to regain his composure. Then she squared her
shoulders, defiantly showing him just what kind of a state she was in. Hair
unkempt. Makeup smeared and melting. Tear stained. Round bellied.
Then she saw who stood in front of her.
That was
Roger?
-- -- -- --
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
*Ducks and
hides from Urunwa. Better shots will be next time! I promise! But I did
promise, and deliver, shots of Roger without glasses this time. Sorry they’re
so far away.
Welcome to Mariah’s rein as the 3rd
Sixkiller Heiress! Woot, yay! So, quickly, just to make sure it made sense
since a lot of that was silent. As you can see, Mariah grew up all
and she’s Layla passed the
day after Mariah aged up. I’ll put a pic or two up of her passing on Tumblr,
but it wasn’t anything special. It happened shortly after Andre came over
graduation night. (And I hope you noticed that he didn’t even stay the entire
night.) After that it was just, well, Hey look! Generation 4 is on the way!