Days always start of the same. Never any variation in the way I get to work or how I come home. My bus is always on time and I always cringe as I pass the driver my dollar for a ticket, thinking of the cookie I could have for that amount.

I haven't had a cookie for months.

My money was safely stored under my mattress as per usual and I hadn't bothered putting any in my purse for food today so that I could actually afford my rent at the end of month.

The heating was turned off even though I knew how cold my room would be later at the expense of keeping a few shitty dollars back for the bike I was saving for.

I couldn't afford fancy shampoo so my constantly dry and wiry long brown hair was regularly scooped into an elastic band which I had found wrapped around the few useless letters I received every month.

I had already looked over my appearance in a numb state due to my lack of sleep that night and pinched my cheeks in an effort to reproduce the affects of blusher (which I couldn't afford).

I can't remember the last time my cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

My stomach aches annoyingly as I remember the distant raucous laughter and chatter from better times contrasting enormously to the almost stinging silence that accompanied me when I wasn't at work.

I don't have enough money for a TV or radio or any other type of distraction from the fact that I was all alone.

And I guess it's alright. No one else gets hurt that way, I don't have to unload anything, effect anyone with my baggage.

I quickly changed into my work uniform, well it wasn't really a uniform. As cheap and leery as it sounds, my uniform was anything short and alluring. Sure, batting dirty hands off my ass on the evening shift gets a little old but I need the tips more than anything.

I frowned at the jean shorts which barely covered what they were meant to but at least the polo shirt didn't show anything on top, what a god send. I didn't even have to look outside to know it was raining in the permanently soaked city of Seattle before grabbing my overused dark blue hoody from the kitchen table and pulling it over my head.

Grabbing the keys from the sideboard I unhooked my rucksack from the hook behind the door, swinging it over my shoulder and turning to look over my one roomed apartment.

Gross. That's the only word which springs to mind when you look at my place. Dust everywhere, the trashcan overflowing, peeling wallpaper and paint and broken doors don't exactly describe a haven of serenity.

Fucking gross.

I sighed once more before pulling the sticking door shut behind me. I walked through the front door I was careful to tip toe down the shared hallway as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake up my very verbal neighbour. He only yelled in the mornings but his ears were so God damn sensitive.

"DO YOU WANT TO WAKE UP THE WHOLE FUCKING PLACE?" The faceless man yelled through the paper thin walls. I huffed and carried on walking, making a point to stomp a little.

"You're doing just fine on your own." I mumbled, shaking my head. I pulled my rucksack tighter around my body, holding onto the straps as I made my way outside.

I shivered when the cold air and rain hit me straight in the face and ran down my nose, jumping a little as the door swung back into place a little louder that usual. I took a chance glance at the sky, hoping to see some blue sky after the grey clouds but no, the day isn't going to get any brighter than this.

If I could get a decent amount of money to move, I would.

The sidewalk outside my apartment block is littered with massive amounts of trash, and graffiti covers the brick all around it like something someone who wanted to seem 'intriguing' would call art. But realistically it just looks like a toddler's gone round with a paint gun squirting it like a mini maniac.

I jogged slightly down the three steep steps onto the sidewalk and jumped as a slosh of water worked its way all over my legs and the bottom of my shirt.

Perfect fucking timing

I glared after the speeding black look-at-me car which had skilfully gotten close enough to side of the road to push a whole puddle over me.

"ASS HOLE." I yelled, flipping him off (only a guy could be so fucking ignorant).

Sighing I rang out the dirty water from my hoody and the whole point of it keeping me warm was lost as the heavy fabric stuck to me.

Well, I didn't lose my keys this morning, maybe I've ran out of my daily ration of luck today.

God is pretty fricking cheap.

I pressed the heel of my hand into my eyes and took a deep breath in hoping I sucked in a good mood with it too.

Nah, it didn't work.

I trudged down the concrete in my newly squidged converse.

I wished that the bus stop had a shelter. It didn't.

No one else got on the same stop as me so when I reached the pole, signalling where I should queue it was desolate like usual.

Normally at this time of day I allow myself a few spare minutes to myself: the rest of the day I'm too busy working my ass of for some extra cash and my heads so full of useless crap I haven't enough time to think of anything else.

Before, I would find myself pondering over my lonely existence and how useless I was in the grand scheme of the universe.

But now I realise that that in itself is useless. There's no point wondering about ifs and when's if you know things are never going to change, and I know they never will.

If I think to hard and long about all what I've lost I'll go mad.

And it would probably take me the whole fucking day too.

Hope's just a fucking waste of time.

These days I stare aimlessly and thoughtlessly across the street at the boarded up supermarket with smashed in windows and glass scattered around the sidewalk.

I could feel my eyes glazing over as I stared at the 'R' on the sign which was swinging from side to side with the rain and wind.

I started when the bus flew into my sight, blocking my staring spot from view and interrupting my empty train of thoughts. I bit my lip when the doors hissed open remembering how it used to scare the shit out of me and nodded to the elderly man whose name I forget and dismissed the free seats choosing to stand instead.

Elderly people need the bum support more than me.

I know...shocker right? The bitch can be thoughtful.

Swaying slightly from side to side, I could feel my eyelids closing little by little. I could remember my mums arms, and how she used to rock me gently whenever I was upset.

And then I remembered that I was on a smelly, grimy bus on the outskirts of Seattle. Alone.

And that's how it is from now on.

My eyes opened as I jolted, my head hitting the cool glass slightly. I watched a rain drop on it journey down the clear screen and sighed as I spotted the run down 'restaurant'.

I nodded to the now even more wrinkled old man who steered the bus and stepped off, sighing as I walked right into a puddle, the muddy water seeping through the fabric off my already torn converse.

I squinted up at the peeling yellow paint covered sign, 'Simons Burger Break' except the 'N', 'E's' and 'I' were either stolen or hanging by the edge of nail so it was no longer even readable. The brightly coloured two for one deal posters were stuck to the windows with blue-tack or old chewing gum and the fluorescent lights weren't exactly flattering.

It keeps 'a measly amount of' food on my plate but I couldn't be less proud of my place of work.

However as long as I get my money I couldn't give a shit where it comes from. Well I toe the line at anything that involves me removing clothes but that's just fucking obvious, I'm not going to let some perverted old man get his kicks from me.

My hair frizzed up a little bit more much to my fucking delight before I shoved the heavy glass door open.

I heard a horribly recognizable and droning voice as soon as it hit the wall behind it with a bang. He spoke as I watched the glass wobble a little before stilling.

"If that smashes, I'm taking it out of your wages." The fat balding man tapped his foot against the floor as his podgy hands rested on his overweight hips. His polo shirt was stretched over his man boobs in a way that made me want to throw my shitty dinner from last night up.

I huffed, still not bothering to look at his face. "Well it didn't so..."

"You see that sign? Whose fucking name is on it?"

I admired the cracks in the far wall as he spat out his sentence, clenching my jaw as he carried on speaking shit to me. "Simon. I thought you'd know that seeing as you admire that piece of shit everyday."

"Any more attitude from you Swan, and your ass will be the first thing I throw out of that door." I dragged my eyes from the sticky tiled floor to his face as I heard his footsteps grow closer. I would have been scared as he pointed a sausage (or what he would call finger) in my face but his forehead was so fucking shiny with sweat I tried hard to stifle a sarcastic comment.

I didn't answer. He huffed and stomped away and I watched as his balding head and almost dangerously fat backside walked back into his office.

"Dickhead." I mumbled as I trudged toward the locker room which could scarcely be called that as half the locks were fucking broken.

Someone called Peter tried to talk to me.

I ignored him.

Angie(?) offered to take one of my shifts.

I ignored her.

Its not to hard to be lonely you know.

I was introduced to the new chef, who was fucking ripped to high heavens. There's no way I'm bad mouthing him even though his deep dimples and huge (almost) infectious smile told me he wouldn't take it as bad as red face waddler.

I waited a few tables, smacked a few dirty wandering hands and watched the clock till the hour hand stopped at 11pm and I could go 'home'.

I didn't run into the boss again and as my day got worse I was glad. I would have probably lost my fucking job as soon as my mouth opened.

It was still raining when I left.

Before I would have been scared walking around Seattle on my own but now...not so much.

I got back later than usual.

I fell asleep on an itchy mattress, under a thin sheet, with the heating off.

In the middle of December.

Twilights not mine. Please tell me what you think.