FIONA

Spring was in the air. There was no doubt about it. People all across the town were outside enjoying the sunshine; however, not Fiona. She cringed at the thought of walking outside into the sunlight. "Fiona, you can't sit inside forever, and mope around. You're a young woman now," her sister said, "A woman in her twenties should be outside enjoying the beautiful weather. Why don't you go for a drive today? After all, it's your day off. Surely, there must be something you could be doing other than sitting inside on the sofa, watching television," as she was carrying a basket of clean clothes upstairs and headed into her bedroom. "That's easy for you to say, Beverley. It's just that I've grown bored with life. I'm going to be twenty-nine years old in a couple of days. I feel so old," Fiona groaned while punching one of the sofa pillows, "When am I going to get my big break in life? Working at Sorrels Department Store certainly is not the thrill of my life. I always thought I'd be doing more with my life, other than being a trainer for a department store. When is my life going to begin? I feel like I've been immobile for quite some time," she groaned, while pushing herself up from the sofa and heading into the kitchen. Raiding the refrigerator, she grabbed the container with the leftover macaroni and cheese from the previous night's dinner. Grabbing a spoon from the drawer, she headed into the living room, and dug into the comfort food. Beverley entered the living room and glared at Fiona, as she continued to feed her depression. "Fiona, you need to stop eating that stuff. If you'd go for a walk and get some fresh air, you'd feel better. There's nothing better than exercise," Beverley scolded while grabbing the container of pasta away from her, "This is going back into the refrigerator. Tonight is the last time you'll be eating this junk food. The problem with you, Fiona, is you eat too much junk food. That's why you're so moody and depressed. Turning twenty-nine years old in a couple of days has nothing to do with it. It's all a state of mind," and she headed into the kitchen when her voice faded away. Fiona grabbed a pillow, and pushed it against her own face in disgust, "Umm. Why don't you just let me live my life the way I want to live it? You may be my older sister, but you're not my mother. I'm an adult. You're always treating me like I'm five years old. When is this crap going to stop, Beverley?" Beverley returned to the living room with a dish towel. Drying her hands with it, she snapped the dish towel at Fiona, saying, "You'll get treated like the adult you are when you start acting like it. And the first thing you're going to do is stop eating junk food. Second, I want you to go out and get some fresh air. If you don't want to walk in the neighborhood, take my car, and drive to a*****e. A grocery store or a mall is a great place to walk around and get exercise, even if all you want to do is browse. Go out and be amongst people." "I don't feel like it," Fiona groaned, "But I'll go, anyway, just to keep you off of my nerves," grabbing the car keys and her purse from the end table on her way out the door. During the drive, traffic was heavy, because people were just getting out of work. Fiona honked her horn in frustration, and rolled down her window, hollering to the driver of the car passing her, "The same to you, buddy. Where did you learn to drive? Did you learn from a baboon?" Her head throbbed, as did her brow bone area. When Fiona pulled into the parking lot of one of the local drugstores, the driver in another car was backing up. Fiona pounded on her horn. As the woman moved forward, Fiona proceeded. Another woman was coming out of the drugstore with her daughter who looked to be six years old. She ran out in front of Fiona's car. Fiona slammed hard on the brakes to avoid hitting her, yelling out the window, "Sweetheart, you need to look both ways. Don't you know it's dangerous to walk out in front of the car? What the heck was your mother thinking letting you walk across without holding her hand? Gees. Honestly. Some parents sure aren't equipped to be parents in the first place." "Watch who you're talking to, lady. She's only six years old," the mother yelled to Fiona while raising her fist in the air. "Then do a better job of looking after her," Fiona shouted while honking the horn at the woman. By the time she found a parking spot, gray clouds filled the sky. Looking up at them, Fiona muttered to herself, "Beverly, you and your brilliant ideas about going out for some fresh air. I just hope it doesn't rain while I'm away from home." Walking through the medicine aisle, she faced a small dilemma deciding which pain reliever was best for her symptoms.