Emily drearily awoke neatly-wrapped inside a woolen blanket, just the way she liked it. Sure, her bed was getting old and lumpy but the general uncomfortableness had become a charming quality to her eyes. Whatever unappealing traits anyone could say about her room, chipping pink paint and tapped-up posters came to mind, she loved it anyway. Living a whole three floors up from ground level gave a new perspective on many things. Elevation served as her means to escape her troubles with the world below. However, privacy was still an issue with windows in her family’s apartment ranging from three to ten feet wide. Screw dogs and diamonds, curtains can be anybody’s best friend. The best part was how quite her room was. Emily couldn’t hear a sound coming from inside or out; as if the day wanted to sleep in too. She loved mornings like this. Time seemed to stop and give the eighteen-year old a chance to diligently plan out her schedule or think about irrelevant topics while she would fall back to sleep.
Falling asleep was slightly dangerous for Emily. Mornings were hectic for her family and they didn’t feel inclined to keep track of their daughter’s progress from bed to bus. The dark brunette’s protests contributed to the status quo, insisting that she could wake up at a decent hour without any alarm. At the thought, the young woman lifted herself to see what time it was. Her vision was still blurry yet she could see the clock on her work desk against the wall. Emily grinned to herself as she saw the plastic pink bear attached to the clock, positioned as if it were posing for an erotic 1970s poster. She couldn’t really see the bear’s face but her memory placed the sly and somewhat creepy look on the figure. The glaring red numbers underneath the perverted creature hurt Emily’s eyes, although this informed her of the time.
6:03 am
The eighteen-year old fell back on her bed, eyes shut, ignoring the sting that arose. She sighed. This was perfect: a full forty-two minutes before she needed to get out of bed, nothing to do except think about whatever she wanted and not a sound to be heard.
Emily felt a shift in her covers. The twang of plastic hitting carpet filled the room, followed a voice box cranking out “Howdy Partner! My name is Spot Spurs. Let’s sing a song together!” Immediately, the image of a dalmatian with false jewel-encrusted hat and boots appeared in her mind. Okay, dogs and diamonds do have their place in life. Curtains just come first sometimes. The canine on the floor continued to sing the ABCs in a forced western drawl. While Emily loved Spot very much, his shtick always went a long way fairly quickly. The brunette felt her will to stay in bed deteriorate as time went on. She quickly got out of bed and shut the toy off before it could sing anymore. Emily shivered as she stared into the black soulless eyes of the doll, now questioning why she had cut his concert short. The young woman smiled back at the plaything, carefully placing him down on the bed. She forced to uphold her grin while she patted him on the head and walked into the bathroom.
She closed the door and released the air in her chest. “That was too much,” Emily spoke to herself. She turned to face herself in the mirror, now sporting a look of disapproval. There was no need to do that. You didn’t need to feel sorry for the guy or be intimidated by him. Hell, he’s not even a real dog! Stop treating them like they’re alive! Emily groaned, wishing to ignore the problems being stated by her inner voice, They were part of a bigger problem; a problem that the eighteen-year old didn’t want to face too often. Well, since we’re here, let’s start the day. A smile formed at the ends of Emily’s lips, thinking that moving on with her routine would help her escape the embarrassing moment from earlier.
Emily was getting back into her groove with each act. Her teeth were squeaky clean and her general grogginess was alleviated from her system. Her pace stopped as she geared up to take a shower. She looked back at her the mirror. It held the image of a girl, still covered in yesterday’s grime, wearing a sleeveless teal shirt and navy blue panties. The articles of clothing showed their age clearly through loose strings and torn tags. The brunette frowned as she looked how they hugged her body so easily, insulted at how mother nature had treated her. Her own mother had stated that Emily was gifted with a figure that remained slim, fit and youthful. It was a nicer way to say she was underdeveloped. Five years after puberty, most A-cups still felt baggy on her. A lot of the time she didn’t feel the need to wear a bra. Her backside was becoming a different story. The past six months had Emily straining to find a solution to her unexpected growth problem. Thankfully, she regained control of that particular region before she needed to find bigger pants. Her buttocks was actually well-toned considering everything. The sudden change had put a bit of tension on her choice of undergarments but the brunette refused to buy larger sizes, thinking it would allow her body to fill up like a pear. The eighteen-year old would wrap herself in sweaters, jackets and anything to hide her natural form yet the snickers from her classmates tormented her to no end.
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