The Shattered Looking Glass Part Four: The Paupers and the Princess

Social Class [n] : people having the same social or economic status (I am rich! Therefore my social class is for the rich people); "the working class" (hey, I work too); "an emerging professional class (I'm professional)" [syn: class (I was raised to have lots of it), socio-economic class (economics was my worse class)]1

2

Disaster Dis*as"ter, n. [F. d['e]sastre; pref. d['e]s- (L. dis-) + astre star, fr. L. astrum; a word of astrological origin (I like space and astronomy). See Aster, Astral, Star.] 1. An unpropitious (big word) or baleful (doesn't that have to do with hay?) aspect of a planet or star (I want to be famous); malevolent influence of a heavenly body (my body is heavenly, enjoy its influence); hence, an ill portent (but I thought you said it was heavenly?). [Obs.]3

Disasters in the sun. --Shak. (Damn straight Willy boy)4

2. An adverse or unfortunate event (my being born), esp. a sudden and extraordinary misfortune (being hit by a truck); a calamity (Trent's psychosis); a serious mishap (my life).5

But noble souls, through dust and heat, Rise from disaster and defeat The stronger. --Longfellow. (why exactly do they call you LONGfellow?)6

Syn: Calamity; misfortune; mishap; mischance; visitation; misadventure; ill luck. See Calamity. (Check all that apply)7

It's ironic how the words "social class" and "disaster" fit together to describe both my life and Trent's house. Trent wasn't joking when he defined his house as being one. I stood in the lawn of a three story shack in a neighborhood of equally hideous homes. The houses were all cheap and falling apart, probably destroyed over the years and never repaired, but Trent's home had to be the one with the most loose floorboards and holes in the roof. It was definetly a change, but I now questioned whether or not it was the one I had been searching for. I admit, it really was a step down from my condo.8

"Well, this is it," Trent informed as he scratched his head and stared at the limp pieces of wood. He walked through the dead lawn and stepped onto the hand-built deck. He approached the door and pushed it open, and then beckoned me to follow him inside. I hesitantly placed one foot in front of the other until I found myself inside the house. It was much more appealing to the eye inside the house, but it lacked furniture. There was crystal and porcelain china everywhere you turned, and a golden chandelier hung in what I imagined was once a ballroom. There wasn't a speck of dust to be seen anywhere, but then there was nothing in the house for it gather on. The only things that were close to being real furniture in the house were the refrigerator, stove, microwave, table, and musical instruments that were scattered throughout the place.9

"I guess it's time you met Anthony."10

Anthony was a six foot tall, muscle-bound Caucasian pothead. He also had black hair, but his was slightly longer and the spikes were messier, and the few bangs he had would curl into his hazel eyes. He wore a white ringer tee (with black lining the sleeves and the collar) that read "Anarchy or Death" with his khaki cargo shorts and black All-Star Converse shoes. He wore a green and white striped wristband with a black star patched on, along with many other bracelets. In his eyebrow was a small silver studded ring, and he also had piercings in his labret, ear, and tongue. His arms also had tattoos like Trent, but his were more colorful and covered him from his wrists to his shoulders, and then down his back. I was blessed to be moving in with two exceptionally good looking men.11

"Who's she?" Anthony asked as he walked down the spiral staircase into the parlor. "Is she the one who called earlier?" Trent nodded and then put his hand on my shoulder, as if he was trying to identify me with my body for Anthony's visual aid.12

"This is the girl I hit earlier today, remember? I told you all about it." Trent sighed as he watched his friend struggle to remember events from earlier that day. The boy's head was so fried from the drugs that he couldn't even remember what he had for breakfast.13

"So she's moving in with us?"14

"Yeah, for a while. She'll probably take the extra bedroom on the second floor."15

Anthony nodded and then twitched, a sure sign that the marijuana was wearing off at the moment. He gestured for me to follow him and led me up to my new room. Trent kept downstairs as we climbed the staircase, and I was sure I heard the sound of a beer bottle opening and fizzing. After circling around on a black iron stairway, I set foot on the second floor and Anthony motioned to a room in the back left corner of level. 16

"Here you go." Anthony pushed the door open to reveal a mattress on the floor, a small nightstand, and a beautiful white baby grand piano. Anthony pointed at the few furnishings in the room.17

"That piano is imported from Spain. It's handcrafted with ivory keys and has been around for hundreds of years. It's a little out of tune, but you're welcome to use it if you know how. That's your nightstand for your weed, your toys, your stolen identities, whatever you want to put in there, and that over there is your very own mattress to fulfill both your slumber and nymphomaniac needs. That's pretty much it. We're not really big on material things."18

I nodded and Anthony turned to exit the room. He stopped short in his tracks and then turned to face me again. I raised an eyebrow as he stared right through me, much like Trent had at Jerry's Bar.19

"Have you ever met God?"20

De ja vu and uneasiness pumped through my veins as the words spilled from his lips. There was no chance it could have been a coincidence that they both asked me the same question. I took a few steps back and stared blankly at Anthony. He twitched again and then ran his fingers through his hair.21

"Sorry about that," he apologized. "Uh, get some rest and Trent's going to make breakfast in the morning."22

He turned around again and then disappeared from the room and into the giant social class disaster of a house. All I could do was stand there in shock and uncertainty. It was too late to turn back now, but I wondered what I had gotten myself into.23