04-22-2012, 07:09 PM
Charlotte arrived back at her matchbox apartment just as it started raining. She sighed, throwing her bag onto the couch and grabbing a pink silk ribbon from the side table (she kept them lying everywhere) to tie up her mass of slightly wavy blonde hair. Next she moved to the kitchen, pulling out day-old Chinese food and setting it on the counter, before going into the bedroom and taking off her damp dress, slip, and petticoats, and changing into an old pair of baby-blue sweats. Really, all that Lottie was doing was delaying the inevitable.
Finally, when Lottie could procrastinate no longer, she moved to her outdated computer and turned it on, waiting for the sluggish machine and dial-up internet connection to load. She moved to the kitchen to get her food, and started eating right from the containers with a plastic-handled fork that looked like it had been made for a baby. With the internet on, Lottie opened the browser and typed in the address of her email-site, typing her log-in quickly than waiting for the page to load. It was a little ironic, this decrepit machine, but no more so than the rest of Lottie's life. Theoretically, the girl was very rich-but she wasn't aloud to touch a penny of that wealth, so instead, the girl lived in squalor.
After what seemed like an eternity, Lottie's email finally loaded. Her inbox had to messages. Lottie's heart flew into her mouth, but she was soon disappointed. One was junk mail, the other was a message from her grandmother. Not having the patience to read either, Lottie logged out and powered down her computer. She had been silly to hope that anyone would respond so soon. Lottie headed to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth before going to bed rather early, and tired to tell herself that she didn't care.
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