It was Sunday; usually I get to roam around my place and do absolutely nothing and relax. No, not today ―today I have to work.
I felt myself stir around my uncomfortable bed. I woke from the loud ringing of my alarm clock. I sat up to press down my alarm clock ―shutting it up. I rubbed the sleep off of my eyes and slowly stood up, walking to the bathroom. I quickly rinsed my face and guggled water.
"Brittany, darling―" I heard my mom yell from the kitchen, "Are you up dear," It was more of a statement than an answer, but I responded anyway. Wouldn't want to be rude, do we?
"Yes, ma." I said while making my way to the kitchen. I kissed her on the cheek as a greeting. I sat down on the opposite side of her and noticed she was making sandwiches. "Are you in a hurry today?" I asked. She never makes any type of food in the morning, ever.
It was unusual seeing her in the kitchen, making food. Even more so unusual that she's up in the morning.
"Yes, I got a job interview later. Also I need to meet with Doctor Hansworth."
"Do you want me to follow you on your appointment with him? I know how hospitals set you off most of the time." I offered to my mom.
"No thank you, darling. I can make it on my own, it's no biggie. You have to work today for long hours today." She reminded me.
I groaned at the reminder of extra long hours of scrubbing the tables, waitressing men who grope me. Being creepily leered at by my boss. You must be wondering; why not just quit and find a new job then? It really isn't easy finding a job. Especially finding one that you will actually enjoy doing.
Plus, we need the money. With my mother's health condition, I'm afraid our savings jar won't do much.
"Britty, why don't you quit. I could always go back to baking and maybe you could go out and find a job that requires dancing?" My mom says.
As much as that idea was tempting to take, I know she couldn't last a day back at her job. Sure, it was just baking. Then again, she had to always carry huge bags of flour all the time. Walking back and forth; carrying things.
She couldn't do it.
"No, ma. We need the money for your hospital visits." I sigh, "Dad would have agreed with me."
I heard her sigh, "If your father was here, he would have spent all of our money. The man is reckless and you know it, Brittany." I see her rub her temple, "It's time for work, honey. You should go change and be on your way now. Wouldn't want to anger Harold again now, do we?" She arches her eyebrow in question, and I nod.
I walked into the bar and the smell of strong scented alcohol made into my nostrils. Oh, how I don't miss this at all.
It's quite ironic that I don't approve of drinking, yet here I am; working at a bar.
"Brittany! Earlier than usual, I see." Olsen said with a smirk, from the back of the cash register.
I nodded with a small smile. "Yeah, I learned my lesson…" I subtly reminded him. His smile fell off his face for a while, nodding.
"Brittany, we need you for table six." I heard Rachel say from the back of the kitchen.
"Yeah, I'll be there!" I called back before turning to Olsen. "I guess duty calls…I'll talk later, Olsen."
After serving tables for the past three or four hours―actually, I'm not even sure. But who's counting.
I'm exhausted, so very exhausted. There is at least six hours more for me to stay in this run down bar.
"I haven't seen Harold today…that's…new." I say to Rachel.
"Why?" she questions, "Do you miss him?" She says jokingly.
I cringe at that, causing her to chuckle. I scoff, "Miss him? That old bastard? He wishes."
Rachel just nods. "How is your mother? Are the doctor appointments doing any good?" She questions.
I simply shrug. "I don't know. She seems a little―better? I wouldn't go as for to say she's happy. But maybe better."
"Pierce!" I heard Harold's deep scratchy voice call for me.
"Here goes nothing…" I muttered. Rachel looks at me sympathetically and I sucked in my lips, moving towards him in the cash register.
"Yes, boss?" I ask softly, afraid of speaking louder than I intend to. The last time I did that, he slapped me across the room, threatening to fire me.
"You came early today, that's good." He nods to himself. He turns to me, a smirk on his face. "That's very, very good, Pierce." His voice became deeper. He gropes my butt, causing me to shriek. I see Olsen up on his feet, ready to take him down. I subtly told him to stay down, and he nods hesitantly.
"Move along and don't slack, Pierce." He lets me go, and pushes me forward.
A few more hours pass by and I was so ready to go home and sleep off all my exhaustion.
I looked and see that Harold was still leering at me, so I proceeded on doing what I was doing before.
I heard the front door of the bar open, as I was rearranging plates and cups. I turned around expecting to see an old pervy looking guy, but instead it was a dark haired Latina. I felt my throat getting stuck from how beautiful she looked.
Those mocha dark orbs, those perfect pouty red lipstick lips, her beautiful dark hair, her amazing caramel colored skin, and her perfect shaped body.
It was strange how this stranger has this weird effect on me. I see her smirking slightly to me, and I returned a small half smile.
"A drink, please." I heard the mysterious Latina say in her raspy voice.
She's perfect. Her voice is perfect.
I blushed at my own thoughts. Stop being creepy, you barely know her. Just because you both exchanged smiles and smirks, does not mean you know her.
"There you go, darling." I hear Harold says in his sickening voice.
"Thank you." Is all I heard before she chugs it down and throws it at the wall behind him. My heart races for a bit, wondering what in the world is happening?
I see her pull out a gun from her purse and I could feel my eyes burst out wide open.
She has a gun, a fucking gun!
She starts pointing at everyone with it. "Get down! All of you!" She yells, and you get down immediately, clutching to yourself.
I hear her opening the cash register, probably taking all of the money and shoving it inside her purse. Obviously.
It was silent for a while, I thought maybe she had already left. Then again, I didn't hear the door shut.
I heard someone's foot step walking towards me, I panicked a little. God, is she going to kill me?
"Stand up." She says softly to me.
I stood up almost immediately, not wanting her to shoot me. I kept staring at the ground. My hands balling into a fist.
"Don't be afraid of me, I won't hurt you." She says even softer than before.
I wanted to look up so badly, but how could I? She had a gun. A GUN.
"Please? I swear I won't hurt you." She says again with that soft angelic voice. "Hey, please, look at me." She pleads.
I finally give in and look at her. I swallow my gasp at how she looks even more beautiful up close. I bit my lip and we stood there staring at each other. I see her smile at me.
I felt my own lips twitch a little, and finally I gave her a smile back.
"Hi." She says, before turning back and pointing her gun at anyone who tries to come up to her.
"H-hello." I stuttered. She turns back to me, with an amused expression on her face.
"What's your name?" she asks.
"Brittany." I didn't hesitate this time. I feel weirdly comfortable talking to this stranger who has a gun on her left hand.
"That's a beautiful name," I blushed at her words, and she seems to notice that, so she chuckles lightly. "I'm Santana, nice to meet you."
I nod, "You have a really beautiful name too, Santana." I complimented back, seeing how nice her name sounds rolling out of my lips.
She smiles widely at that before once again turning around to see if anyone stood up yet. "I want you to come with me." She says.
I stood there staring at her, not knowing what to do. Do I say yes? Can I decline―or will I get shot? If it was anybody I'm quite sure they would have said no, but strangely, I felt the urge to say yes.
What's wrong with me?
"I…I oh… uh.." I stuttered, and she looked even more amused.
"Is that a yes or no? I don't mean to rush you, but I really have limited time, Brittany." She smiles at me, still pointing her gun towards anyone who dares walk close to her.
Weirdly and crazily enough….
"Yes." I said. My answer seemed to shock her because her jaws were slightly hanging, and I would have chuckled at that if I wasn't also shocked at my own answer as it is.
"Okay, let's go." She says, grabbing my hands and walking me out of the bar towards her car.
She has a car….then again, she robs people.
We were in her car, she was driving in silence. It was a little uncomfortable…I mean for god sakes, I'm in a car with a criminal.
A thought suddenly came to my mind and before I know it, I was hitting myself. Muttering the words 'my god' and 'idiot'
Santana looks at me curiously, "Is there something wrong? Do you not want to follow me anymore?" she seemed sad at the thought of that, which made me smile a little, but I bit my cheeks.
"No, uh…It's my mother. I-I want to say goodbye, before we leave." Then another thought came to my mind. "Where are we going?"
"I don't know…" she says softly. "I wasn't planning on taking you. I'm a robber…so, I rob. I'm not sure if you'd want to join me on that. I just had a strong urge to talk to you." She says laughing at probably the thought of that. I smiled brightly, feeling a little flattered.
It was silent once again, and before I could speak up, she beated me to it. "So where's your house?"
"What, why?" I questioned.
"I'm dropping you off. I need to meet up with my fellow robbers―or I guess you could name them friends." She rolls her eyes probably at the thought of them.
"No." I said.
"What?" She questions, her eyebrows scrunching together in confusion.
"I said no. I want to follow you." I said firmly.
"Brittany," She sighs looking at the road, "It's a dangerous life being with me. You being with me now is already a risk, and I take fault in that. You could just lie your way through and say you were held hostage from me and escaped. But if you follow me even longer you're going to die." She says, "I'm a criminal. I'm not a good person." She says sadly.
Here goes nothing
"Okay. Keep driving forward and turn left." I say. I saw her face fall into what I think is sadness. "I need to pack my bag of clothing. This is seriously the least comfortable clothing ever."
"Wait…what?" She asks me in disbelief. "You want to…tag along?"
"Yes," I said simply, "Why not."
She kept looking at me, trying to figure out something before nodding at herself.
I walked out of the car and ran straight into my house packing the things I only need. I went to my bed and searched for the necklace my mother gave me. I went down to the kitchen with my bag beside me and wrote a letter to my mom.
Hi, ma. I hope your trip to Doctor Hansworth was good. I won't be coming back anytime soon. I'll be working, somewhere else. Something different. It would help us out more. I'll be getting more money than I did in my old job as a waitress. We need this―you need this.
I hope you won't miss me too much.
I promise to write to you every day or week if I can. I'll mail you money when I get them. I'll even call you if given the chance. I love you.
Love,
Brittany.
Please feed Lord Tubbington.
I set it on the kitchen table and make my way into Santana's car. I turned to her, "Let's do this."
"Are you sure?" She asked again.
"Yup!" I said excitedly, jumping up and down on the seat, causing her to chuckle.
"Okay," she smiles widely at me.
So, what do you guys think? Do you want me to continue this?
I might also be doing tfio's Brittana version, and the 10th chapter for Professor Lopez:Class 2C will be up soon! Please leave your reviews! :D