There are certain things that set people off. Certain things that make a person want to throw in the towel and say 'forget it!' For me at this moment it's the thought of never being in control.
I'm sitting in my study thinking about how easy things could be. How if I just let go and follow my inner desires that everything woul fall into place. Ha! No chance this life of mine is, well what it is I guess. It's late, four ten in the morning to be exact time to turn in.
_ NEXT DAY_
It's Monday morning a time I hate. All the kids in my neighborhood are waiting at the corner for their school buses to come. I'm standing at my bedroom window watching them. So many thoughts of my childhood are flowing by my eyes. The sadness climbing up my body like some misty monster about to attack me. I see my parents walking me to my bus, my high school graduation, my first crush, so many different things. I glance at the alarm clock, eight, great I'm going to be late again. I walk to my closet and pull out a pink turtle neck sweater and a pair of black dress pants, I struggle to concintrate on getting dressed but I feel lonely. My heart starts to ache so bad. No time, no time for tears or feelings work has to get done. Fully dressed and cleaned up I lock my side door and hop into my red Saturn, turn on my CD player and speed to work with Creed.
The only reason my boss doesn't fire me is that I fake being his girlfriend so his parents don't find out that he's gay. Truthfully I think he should tell them but he says that they will disown him, and once the pain of not having my family almost killed me, so every Tuesday we go to dinner with his parents. Their nice people so nice in fact that I know it's an act. My life experience has taught me that nice people are ruthless and that loners like myself are hurting. I walk into the gallery and look around it shows that the girls got drunk again and are hung-over. Models are such partiers. Their slender bodies lay on chairs and love seats in the room. Today was going to be a long day. I paced a second and knew that I had to clean up their mess like a maid, a usual thing, but today they were pissed. I told my boss Keith that the girls needed a stern talking to and sure enough he let them have it and basically told them to shape up or be replaced. Poor me I get to be the scapegoat for his manliness. As I reached the back of the gallery with my trash can the highest ranking model Sasha strolled over and knocked the can out of my hand, spilling all of its contents.
"You missed a spot, fatty", Sasha snickered at me. The pain hit me. It felt as if she took a pair of scissors and stabbed my inner elbow with it. It hurt and stung but I could repress it, hide it. I finished cleaning and gave the girls their instructions for the shoot today and they left me alone in that huge gallery, alone and at the brink of despair.