Chapter 1 : Ominous music

"Table 3 wants their check, boss" I asked over the bar.

"Coming up, Bella. Any last calls?" Carlisle shouted in response, glancing back to me over his shoulder.

"Nah, don't think so boss, we should be good to go in less than thirty minutes. Table 3 is about to get out, 4, 6 and 7 paid and left...and that's about it."

Carlisle was behind the bar drying glasses before putting them back on the shelves above the bottles. He sighed in relief, put his hands on his back and groaned as the ache from the day hit him.

"Great, let me know when the last folks get out."

"Will do." He went back to drying glasses while I busied myself with restocking our menus. I've been working for Carlisle for about three years by now, we get along just fine. He's got a temper but as long as his employees do their share of work, he's a cool guy. I'm not sure exactly how old the man is but I know he is in his mid-fifties.

He looks good for his age, let us be clear on that, if I were to fuck that in thirty years I'd consider myself lucky. His blonde hair and fit body have nothing on his blue eyes. Sometimes I forgot just how good looking he is and some bimbo comes along trying to snatch him up.

And believe me, first time I saw him I wouldn't have minded getting a slice of that either...I just needed a job more than my pussy needed a good fucking.

I've seen many bitches make a play for that hunky piece of man meat but the dude is desperately in love with his high-school sweetheart. It's sweet. Almost sickeningly so.

You know that couple who cannot keep its eyes off of each other for a second when they are together even though they've been married for more than thirty years?

Well meet Carlisle & Esme.

Both of them seem to be the perfect other half of the other. When I see them I think about soul mates. Not the Disney kind, the Plato kind.

In the Symposium, Plato writes about two part of a whole , humans with four arms and legs and two faces split by Zeus who feared the power of those creatures thus condemning each part of the human to search for their other halves "..and when one of them meets the other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy and one will not be out of the other's sight, as I may say, even for a moment..."

I've always found this concept tragically beautiful, for chances are the two parts will never reunite and forever feel the strain of their inner void, their whole being yearning for its missing half, never whole without it.

I was lost in thought when Carlisle called me over to ask if I minded him going home early and closing on my own. He asked nicely which I appreciated. I told him I had no problem with it, gave him a little cheek for going home early to surprise the wife and went back to cleaning.

I often closed up on my own. Carlisle trusted me to do my work properly and be up to his standard even when he wasn't around. I did not disappoint so far and liked our easy going work relationship. I need my job too much to screw it up. Things were clear between my boss and I. Professional doesn't have to mean unpleasant as long as everyone knows their place. That suited me just fine.

"I'm going home, Bella. Don't stay too late, don't forget to lock the kitchen and the pantry before going and..."

I laughed and interrupted him "...and put the alarm on before leaving?"

He smiled and nodded. "I know, I know, you know the drill. Alright, I'm off. Good night, see you tomorrow. You start at eleven right and Heidi has the morning shift?"

"Yes boss!" I saluted him before going back to scrubbing the bar. He let out a low laugh, gathered his things and went to the back exit. "Bye Carlisle, see you tomorrow."

He nodded and was off.

Lost in my work, my thoughts were going everywhere...Laundry waiting to be done at home, bills to be paid and what I still needed to do before leaving work. Like every night, I thought back to our busy evening. The restaurant appeared to attract a growing number of customers which was good for me. It meant more tips. Well more hard work too but I don't mind, the money will be worth it.

Earlier tonight my section was filled to capacity. People where everywhere, trying to get seated or order before their neighbor. Thankfully it went well. It is not always the case. Some nights people are not served fast enough, mix ups happen and the kitchen gets overwhelmed with too many orders.

When the heat is on, things can go sideways pretty fast. You would not imagine how tense things can get every now and then.

Tonight was basically quiet on the tension front, I had time to speak with my customers, which I love. I get to meet many different people on a daily basis, discuss with them when I can and help them have a nice evening, create a great atmosphere. I'm like a host at a party if you will. Or that is how I feel most days at least.

I remember around ten tonight there was a little girl playing with dolls at her parents feet, near their tables. She was quietly mumbling away and I almost did not see her. I barely avoided colliding with the cute kid on the floor, righted myself and served the table their plates.

The kid started throwing a tantrum, babbling about fairy godmothers, princes and eternal love. Her mother got her to calm down and eat quietly by the time I looked back on my section to see if any of my clients needed something. After their meal, the little hellion's dad asked for two coffees and their check. After they had settled the bill, the child was back to her dolls. She was giggling like mad, making her parents laugh and listen to her almost religiously when she included them in her little make believe world, starting with "once upon a time..."

It made me laugh in the middle of my shift and think about fairytale...

Once upon a time there was a little girl.

She used to think everything was possible, she had the world at her feet and big dreams that would one day come true.

Yeah, right, I can hear you thinking from a mile away...What a load of bullshit... And you would be right ! Fact is life is not for dreamers.

Just ask your parents if you don't believe me... If you are like me, you're probably in your mid-twenties, so come on, go ahead and ask them if their dreams come true. I can save you the time, the answer is NO.

We get filled with so much bullshit from day one, telling us we can be whoever we want, that everything is possible in life if you try really hard...You know how that goes.

Those Disney fairy tale shit and other movies where the poor little girl will struggle as she grows up but finally makes it in the end.

I wanted to go over to the blonde cutie and try and break it gently for her...

That shit is just not happening honey.And believe me, I am sorry to have to burst your pink colored little bubble. But here it is. Life is hard. Life is unfair. Morons will get higher paying jobs than intelligent people because they work twice as hard, know the right people or simply are in the right place at the right moment.

The only thing we can do is to suck it up, face the facts and get on with our lives.

Of course I'm not that heartless so I never went over. Let her believe life is a fairy tale for a little bit longer. She'll probably join the ranks of disillusioned women soon enough anyways.

I used to be that little girl, I had dreams, hopes and I would succeed. I thought I would be a journalist and hunt down politicians through the halls of Congress to get a quote on whichever policy, a comment on the government and its actions...

Anyways I will save you the trip down memory lane, flash forward a bit and tell you how that story ends. Little girl grows up, she fucks up, can't go back in time and screws her life over. Now she is desperately trying to make it and finds herself in the exact same position her father ended up years ago.

Talk about family pattern, the legacy of intelligent people failing because they're too sensitive, too tuned up to emotions and end up fucking their lives over.

I followed the same beaten path my father took before, ignored his warnings -sorry, Dad, you did what you could, it's not your fault- which lead me where I am today, a college drop out turned waitress.

I know, not glamorous, you would be right. I work long hours every day, I'm on my feet most of the times, get screamed at when a dish is too cold, too salty, too hot or too spicy.

Though it's not that horrible...I like it because I get to speak with all kinds of people and observe them. People fascinate me. I could watch them all day long and never get bored.

Unfortunately nowadays when people go to a restaurant it's worse than a wham bam thank you ma'am they eat and are out the door as soon as their forks hit the table. They call for their check, settle the bill and less than thirty minutes later will most certainly be back at work.

I suppose our society do not have the luxury of wasted time, time is money and all that. Since globalization we are constantly connecting with individuals on every side of the world, so it would make sense that we would lose sense of time. Different clocks, different part of the world, business expanding and decisions to be made cannot wait it seems so we stick to our smart phones and adapt.

I work in a mall, which is crazy because I hate shopping- really what is so exciting about sales ?- but I suppose if I had money I might like it more. After all window shopping only gets you so far...

And I hate to drool. I will want this dress or those shoes only to realize they are so far out of my price range it's tragically funny... Yeah, story of my life. Then comes disappointment and resignation.

Ever heard of the Kübler-Ross model ? It depicts the five stages of grief in psychology and can be applied to my lust for fabulous shoes...

First there is denial, where I can't believe those beauties would be so ridiculously expensive then comes anger, I feel furious because they are dangling in front of my face in that awesome store and I just can't afford them. Bargaining is the third step, in which I start to think about my bills and how I might be able to budget during the next 3 months and maybe get them, we've all done it and we all know how that ends...

No matter how much you think about it, there is just no way to justify buying pricey pumps just because you think your feet will look so sexy in them and they would look fabulous however going bankrupt for shoes or clothes is too stupid even for me.

Which is when you settle into depression, the fourth stage of the model Elisabeth Kübler-Ross depicted in her 1969 psychology book. Now at this point I feel like shit and replay the story of my life over and over, highlighting the moments where I could have changed my life but instead fucked it up. Yeah, fun times... Anyways after wallowing for a time I enter the last stage : acceptance.

And that, my friends, might be the most important moment.

Realizing you cannot do anything about it, learn to accept that and move the fuck on.

I had pretty much envisioned the rest of my life as a failure, I resigned myself to being boring, lead a mediocre life filled with regrets for the rest of my days on this Earth.

And I was fine with that, I decided to accept it, ponder upon my responsibility in fucking up what could have been a bright future but never let it destroy me. I swore a long time ago to never ever let myself consumed with grief and remorse over things I couldn't change anymore. While my life could have been very different, I made those choices and I could move on from them.

I will not be my father. I will not regret my choices continuously and hate myself for it. I loved my father, he was a good man. He passed away when I was twenty. But we will get back to my daddy issues later on I'm sure.

The point is, I was content. Not happy, not unhappy. Fine.

My life was fine, I made enough money as a waitress to pay my bills. My personal life was basically nonexistent but that was okay too. I had a hard time committing to a relationship of any sort, couple that with a bit...hum...abrasive personality -yeah I'm bitchy when pushed, sue me- doesn't make for a very popular, friendly sort of woman believe me.

My life changed on a Monday. I had always hoped life shattering event were preceded by some sort of strange feeling, a little je ne sais quoi in you begging you to take a certain direction, miss an appointment or I don't know.

Looking back to what I've just said I realize how stupid I was.

Naive even.

Life is unpredictable.

There is no forewarning sign, no little music alerting you of the troubles to come. Shit happens. You don't know why, you don't know when. Life is unfair. But it won't change for you. What you can do however is buckle up and enjoy the ride.

I'm good at that.

That Monday at 00:34 I was at the mall, finishing up my shift. People often think a restaurant closes when its clients are gone.

Wrong.

When your clients are gone you need to clean up every table, redress them for the next shift. After that the floors need to be done before you can go home. It doesn't seem like much but picture this after a full shift, when you've just spent hours running all those stairs to go back and forth between your clients and the kitchen or the bar.

With a smile on your face.

I'm not a super human, give me a break. After long hours the only thing I want- no scratch that- need, is a hot bath and my bed. After washing the floors I went to the backroom to replace everything for my colleagues tomorrow and take my stuff to go home. I was thinking about what music I would put on in the bathroom to enjoy while bathing but heard a noise.

I remember looking up and seeing a shadow over the exit but thought nothing much of it and went back to gathering my stuff. I put my coat on, took my keys and locked up the kitchen before leaving.

I took the exit in the back like every night. We couldn't do business if we didn't have that.

When the mall closes, we start cleaning up so we need to be able to go with a bit of freeway. It makes everything easier on everyone.

Back when this little magic door did not exist I had to walk through the entire mall to access the general exit on the third floor below. It was a hassle I did not need after my shift and I was glad when the direction offered another solution.

One mile my feet don't walk after work feels like heaven.

Besides, I keep my car near the backdoor so really it is a big step up.

I locked the door and armed the security system, put the keys safely away in my oversized handbag and started walking. I love walking at night, contrary to what I just said. Just not when I'm dead on my feet. It is quiet, most people are asleep at their homes and only a few are privileged enough to witness our world in the darkest of night.

Silent.

I love looking up at the stars.

Sadly in most cities you cannot see them. Too many lights.

Once in a while I get out of the city, and look up. It brings me serenity to watch what is so much bigger than I am. As corny as this will sound, I am reminded of my place in the world.

I'm a part of a whole, that is so small, on the universe scale.

It gets me perspective.

I turned the corner and stumbled before the stairs. I was toying with my phone and lost in my thought and forgot what a walking disaster I am. Literally. I must confess, I am terribly clumsy. I trip over air sometimes it seems. But I have grown used to it. I have been since I was a kid, never changed and probably never will so I moved on from that too.

Even when I pay attention to my surroundings, I am practically a liability for myself. It gave me the joy to experience some extremely embarrassing moments in life, thank you very much but we definitely do NOT need to comment any further on that.

I fell on my hands, dusted them off and got back up on my feet. I was looking at the ground to avoid any repeat fall in the near future and noticed something out of place besides the bench before the parking lot. Right there, barely visible if you didn't squint long enough to see it was a bag. Quickly looking around to find its owner I walked towards it. Despite my efforts,nobody seemed to be there.

I figured I would look inside to check for clues pointing towards the owner of the beat up black satchel. Like a good girl I would get him back his property.

I know how fucking annoying losing your bag is. Happened to me twice. I had to change my locks at home, replace my cell, wallet and id and grieve over the 100$ I had in it. Like I said, shit happens. You move on.

I put the bag on my lap and opened it.

I let out a scream when I saw what was in it.

Just laying in the bag was money.

A lot of money. A pile of money actually. Call it a lot, a pile, cash, money, dough...whatever synonym you can find for it doesn't fucking matter.

The shit was there. Right there on my fucking lap. My mind couldn't comprehend how I ended up sitting on a bench near my car after a tiring shift looking at money. Seriously, I thought that would never happen to me.

Who finds money in a bag on their way back home ? Certainly not me, the girl who has never won a cent in any lottery she's ever bought a ticket to ! I mean this is real life, not some stupid fairytale where the little princess will get swiped off her feet by some handsome dude with money. Nor is it lifetime and its sappy flicks.

I was sitting alone on that fucking bench and all I could think about was how the fuck did this happen ?

I guess I was in shock. That money could change everything for me.

Suddenly I started thinking about moving out, a better apartment, and money saved away for rainy days. It seems crazy that such a thing would just be handed out to me.

Yet it was. So who was I to turn it away ? I grabbed the bag and almost ran to my car. My dad, Charlie, gave me that truck when I came back to live with him back when I was younger. It always held that familiar feeling of those things you own for a long time.

You know they are old but you can't bear to lose them because every time you look at them your mind think of something lovingly familiar. For me it's my truck. It's a red beast of a car. The thing can be heard a mile away,Charlie used to say. I love it.

Off the record I think it gives me a bad ass look when I drive it. But I will never admit it out loud. That's too embarrassing, even for me. A girl has to draw the line somewhere, I suppose.

Tonight was a good night. it felt like my life was starting to look up. All of a sudden things seemed brighter than they had in a long time.

I got back home a little before two in the morning.

I draped my coat over the sofa and sat on the edge of it to get my shoes off. I ran a hand over my sore soles, massaged my poor feet for a little while and got up. I crossed the room to the kitchen where I found a good little bottle of white french wine I uncorked to celebrate my lucky night.

After rifling through my cabinets for a decent wine glass I finally savored my first sip.

And damn did it felt good.

In my bedroom I stripped my clothes off, found a night shirt and switched off the lights before heading to the bathroom.

I took a quick look in the mirror.

I looked like shit.

But working tends to do that to me so I pushed the thought out of my mind for now and started to fill the tub with hot water. I like to bathe in really hot water, almost scalding actually. It relaxes me like a good glass of wine after a long day, it alleviates the stress I get at work and leave me peaceful.

Waiting for the tub to fill, sipping away one of the best things French had to offer seemed heavenly after such a day.

I quietly dipped my finger into the water and swirled it around.

Perfect temperature.

I moaned as I got in, feeling every part of my muscle relax quasi instantly with the warm water. Oh fuck that is good. I sighed, closed my eyes and reclined my head. There was no sound around me except for a low jazz melody I had put on my Ipod dock earlier filtering from my bedroom; the bathroom smelt like the bubble bath I had poured in the tub earlier. Ylang ylang and coconut.

As I was laying back my head against the bathtub at ease in my home, I had no idea my life was changing.

There was no ominous music in the background alluding to the pending doom, no weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. No nothing, in fact.

I didn't know. I didn't see it coming.

My life had drastically changed yet I remained unconscious, unknowingly missing a key factor in my future. It was all happening as I enjoyed the moment, careless in my bathtub. My hand had been dealt and my cards were showing but I was never aware the game had started.