Writing Prompt: Rosalind at Home

So I was supposed to do A Trip to the Store for all of my characters, but I couldn’t think what good a trip to the store would do for Rosalind.  So instead I wrote a scene from Rosalind at home to help me know better how she would react in some situations.

Centripetal Force

It was after 8:00 when Rosalind got to her house.  She could hear the TV through the door.  Brad was over.  She found him sitting in his usual spot, slouched in the middle of the couch in a wifebeater and basketball shorts.  Three empty beer bottles stood on the folding side table, with a pile of mail behind it.  Rosalind crossed over to the table and sifted through the mail. Two of them had “PAST DUE” in red letters across the front.  Nothing from the talent company.

“What’re you doing home so late?” grumbled Brad.

“I was out with friends,” Rosalind clipped back.

“Doin’ what?” he grumbled louder.

“Eating pizza, gosh!” Roalind snapped, throwing the mail back onto the table and heading into the kitchen.

“Your momma and I were supposed to go out tonight,” said Brad.

“What does that have to do with me? Happy hour isn’t even open yet.”  She opened the fridge, looked in, and shut it again.

“We were gonna go to dinner.”

This piqued Rosalind’s interest.  “Oh yeah, where?”

“Swordfish,” mumbled Brad through a mouthful of chips.

Rosalind snickered to herself. The Swordfish was where her mom usually took her boyfriends to break up with them. “Lucky break,” she said as she looked into the cupboard.  She found a box of crackers at the back.

“What’sat supposed to mean?”

Just then, Rosalind’s mom, Jeannie, came out of the bedroom in a rush of perfume, calling, “Brad, are you ready?”

“Rosalind’s here,” Brad said, jerking his thumb back.

“Oh, hi honey!” Jeannie cruised over to Rosalind and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“New perfume, Mom?” Rosalind asked with a raised eyebrow.

Her mom’s blue eyes widened. “Oh, no, just one of the old ones I have…lying around,” she said.

“Uh-huh…,” Rosalind murmured.

Jeannie gave her a look.

Rosalind responded with her own innocent look and a shrug.

Flustered, Jeannie turned her attention back to the boyfriend. “Brad, you’re not dressed yet.”

“Just a minute,” he complained, reaching across the couch and picking up a crumpled piece of blue fabric.  “Where we goin’ tonight?” he asked as he draped it over his shoulders and pulled his large frame up.

“Brad said you were going to the Swordfish today,” Rosalind said, whining out the restaurant name.

Her mom huffed and brushed a loose bang away from her face. “Well, now we’re going to Bunky’s.  Why not?  They’ve got good food,” she rushed, pulling on her red blazer too hard. “Did you get something to eat, honey?”

Nice change of subject, Mom, Rosalind thought.  “I had pizza with Gray,” she said.

A big smile broke out on her mom’s face.  “Oh, how nice!” she cooed.  “What is that, 3 dates now?  Next thing you know you’ll be wearing a white dress!”  Rosalind rolled her eyes but didn’t respond.

“I’m starving, babe, let’s go,” growled Brad at the doorway.  His frame took up the entire opening.

Jeannie snatched her matching red purse and whirled to him.

“Have fun, Mom,” Rosalind said.  “See you…whenever.”  The door shut behind them.

She sighed and flopped down onto the couch.  Chips crunched under her.  “Gross!” she muttered, brushing them onto the floor.  She flipped the TV to a game show.  Some woman had just won $3000.  Rosalind scowled. I should apply to be on that show Three thousand dollars could get me out of this dump and somewhere I can start over.  A dark, antsy feeling seeped in.  She sighed again and pulled herself back off the couch.  Time for a walk.  But first a change of clothes.

She stared at her closet.  Her closet always made her happy.  There was nothing she loved more than clothes.  When the rest of her life was dragging her down, she could always open her closet and breathe in all the pretty things.  Not only that, but clothes meant she could be whoever she wanted to be on any given day.  Today, what grabbed her first was her favorite vest.  It was oversized and fringed all along the bottom.  Next she grabbed her favorite pants, the ridiculously wide-legged white ones that the 70s forgot.  Next, her red heels with the gold studs all up the back.  What kind of top underneath though?  Impact was the important thing.  Red heels weren’t enough of a statement by themselves to counter the bland vest and pants.  She sifted through her shirts until–That’s it!  She yanked out the crop top with the large Aztec print.  Perfect.

 

Clop, clop, clop, clop. Rosalind enjoyed the sound of her heels clicking on the sidewalk.  She imagined herself on stage, belting out the last note of a song, all eyes on her.  Sprays of sparks behind her and smoke on the ground.  What a feeling!  She straightened her back and exaggerated her steps.  That’s what life was meant to feel like.  Not… The memory of chips crunching and the smell of beer intruded upon her fantasy life, causing her good mood to grate to a halt.  The image of her mom’s desperate look before she went off to Bucky’s with Brad rose up before her.  Why did her mom pick such losers to date?  “Why can’t you just stop dating altogether?” she asked out loud.

A pale flash of hair just ahead startled Rosalind out of her thoughts.  A pair of steely eyes glared at her out of a petite, pointed face.  “What did you say?” the mysterious girl asked.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Rosalind reacted.

“Good. Because my dating habits are none of your business,” she answered.

Rosalind scoffed.  “Why would I care about your ‘dating habits’?  I don’t even know you!”

The girl narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips a moment.  “You’re Rosalind.”

Rosalind’s mouth fell open.  For once in her life, she was speechless.

The girl smirked. “I see you in the halls between 4th and 5th period.  Building B.  Coming out from Mr. Burkhaus’s class.”

 

“What are you doing standing out here all by yourself?”

“I was studying constellations.  What are you doing walking out here all by yourself?” said the girl stiffly.

Rosalind shifted away a little.  “Walking,” she said.

The glanced at her feet. “In those?”

Rosalind took in the girl’s attire.  Beige jacket, knee-length skirt, blue canvas shoes with white ankle socks.  This girl needs some serious fashion help, she thought.

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Filed under Character Development, Creative Writing, Plot Development

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