faux-gingerette
She poured the sugar into the scales, watching the numbers tip higher and higher. This particular recipe had always given her trouble, she'd never been able to get it just right. She knew it was a difficult one, and she knew that you had to get the amounts of ingredients perfect or it wouldn't rise properly. She poured slowly, tipping the sugar gently. The number clicked onto the exact amount she needed, and she pulled her hand back quickly. Sugar flew out of the bag and all over the kitchen side, but no more fell onto the scales. They were exactly right.
She was matronly, I guess you could describe her as. She was dumpy and short, but she always had a smile on her face and cookies freshly baked. I guess that was why she was a bit dumpy. She looked after us, she really did. None of us had mothers, but she really did her best to be one to us all.
She slipped through the doors, keeping her footsteps light. She knew she couldn't let them see her, or she'd never make it out of this alive. She made her way up the stairs, avoiding the one in the middle that always creaked, and edged around the loose floorboard on the landing. She was grateful that she knew this house like the back of her hand, glad they'd lived their for her whole life, sometimes. It meant she could creep in without waking her parents.
I know that people change when they get into a relationship sometimes, I know that. But I've never seen it happen like this, and I never thought it would happen to her. She was always the life and soul of the part, the loud, confident one. She was popular and fun and now... now she's quiet and shy and never sees her friends. He's changing her, I think he's doing it on purpose, he's wearing her down. It's like he's beating the life and soul out of her.
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sugarsometimeshappensoulnowhandguessdumpypouredscaleshigherchangerelationshiploudconfidentpopular