The floor is cold, so is the room, so much that I swear I can almost see my breath. This is a strange occurrence at the end of springtime, even though the rain here is as cold and heavy as frozen knives clattering to the ground. Now I'm sitting here staring at my open window with malice, upset that there is no warmth that a sunless morning can give me. Is this what it's supposed to feel like? Loss? The loss of my parents? It's been a week since the funeral, and for some reason I can't get it out of my head. I clench my fists, letting my nails dig into to bed of my palms, I feel incredibly empty, lonely, just sad. With a sigh I get to my feet, enjoying the feel of the carpet under me.
My fingers snag my phone and I make my way to my kitchen, pulling open the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. Just as I'm spinning the cap off the top my phone buzzes, "There's blood on your lies, Disguised up and wide- there is nowhere for you to hide, the haunting moon is shining, I'm run-" My finger swipes the screen and I lift it to my ear, "Hello?"
"Hey Tris!"
"Christina, oh fuck I'm sorry I forgot about your shoes," I say, the words slipping from me to distract me from the week of depression I'm digging myself out of. Instantly I bite my lip, to keep from telling her what has happened, I don't want her to pity me, and I don't want to talk about it. "Oh, it's fine, what did you need them for?" She chirps through the line,
"Job interview," I lie easily,
"Oh my God, I should have known, sick of retail aren't you?"
"Something like that," I say, allowing a smile to grace my lips. The first smile I've had on my face in over a week, Christina just has that bubbly personality, where she doesn't care about the terrible, and she has this gift to see the good in people. Part of the reason I got along with her. "Well, I think that interview might come in handy, Tiffany is going to kill you when you get here,"
"Why?"
"Your leave to see your brother went unmarked on the calendar," I pause, putting down my iced water,
"What?"
"Yeah, gone for almost eight days now and it's all unmarked,"
"But I took it up with her personally!" I declare, annoyance seeping into my voice.
"I don't know, but whatever it was that you had to do I hope it was worth it, she's stirring up a storm looking for you, get here soon yeah?"
"Yeah, see you soon," I say to her, ending the call and staring at my phone. Already anticipating the rush of fury that instantly hits me after the call. My hands slam down on the counter and I spit profanities at Tiffany and at Caleb, at life. It takes me a silent minute before I realize how bad my hands sting, with a sigh I'm stalking through my house towards my room and my shower. Thankfully, when I was young my brother convinced me that taking shorter showers built character, that was only partially true, it was just a habit to get into to be water savvy, now I can be proud to say I only take five to ten minute showers.
When I'm out I grab normal atrie because technically my uniform requirement is a grey shirt and nametag. Pulling grey cargo pants and a light grey t-shirt, I slip on a grey beanie and ignore my wet hair. It always dried fast, so there's no harm in leaving it wet. Quickly I pull on my converse and grab my keys, wallet, and phone.
I'm out the door in record time and in my sleek black car, I love the way the engine tumbles and sputters to life. As per habit I roll down my window and breathe in the city air, taking in the ashy smell of pre rain storm. It would no doubt storm again tonight, even though the streets are still black and slick from the rain last night. The smell of wet pavement isn't unwelcome, but it's as strong as ever and when I see the construction I know why. My lips purse when I come up to the building I work at, it's nothing special, just like any clothing store you'd come across it's bleak on the outside save for the sign, but even that could use some work.
After parking and rushing inside to save my bestfriend I focus, taking in the perfumed smell of the Forever 21 store, the new clothing smell still drifts to my nose despite the overlay of expensive crystalisk bottles being emptied into the air. My hands clench and I stalk further into the store, ignoring the questioning glances of other coworkers, I whip right down the aisle to the back office, my hand closes around the colt metal handle and I shove open the door. Aggressive words on my tongue when my boss is in sight.
Like always she sits pretty behind her desk filing her nails and pouting her overdone cherry lipsticked lips at her handiwork. When the door slams into the wall at my barging in, she looks up, batting her mascaraed eyelashes at me before grinning slyly, "Tris," She purrs, the corners of her lips curling up too much for my taste, "Have a seat,"
"I'll stand, thank you," I nearly growl at her, "I understand my leave was erased from the work calendar?"
"Yes, you left for six days?" She rolls her eyes at me, feelings mutual bitch.
"Eight," I correct, she glances up at me eyes hardening into a glare like I just made her job harder, "Eight days," She quips, turning and typing into the computer, pulling open a document of our working schedules, my feet take me around the desk so I can watch what she's doing. "Yep," She says, "There's no entry of your leave,"
"Okay," I respond, "But I took it up with you personally,"
"Oh you did?" Her eyebrows raise at me, "That's weird, I don't seem to remember,"
"Are you trying to get me fired?" I scoff at her,
"I'm sorry? What did you accuse me of?" She squeals,
"Nothing," I say in a hard line, anger creeping into my veins and mixing with my blood, "I wasn't accusing you of anything, I asked if you were trying to get me fired. Because last time I checked, there's a thing called cameras and one is located in your room, I talked to you. And you know it, and you pulling this on me isn't fair, I could file for a lawsuit, do you want to be taken to court?" I snap at her, feeling like bucking at her and scaring her, I want to see if she finally get's it. "I'll get someone to look at the footage if it will make you feel better," She says, as if she's dealing with a kid. "Thank you," I sigh, turning on heel and reaching for the door knob. Then I hear her mumble, "Jesus, bitch much?" My feet whirl around in a second, my blood boiling as I slam my hand on the desk, making her jump out of her seat, "My parent's fucking died, that's why I took a leave you cunt so if you've got a problem with me attending their funeral not too long ago, then go fuck yourself," I pull away from the situation, turning for the door and storming for it, "Fire me if you want to, I don't care," The door swings open and I walk out, slamming it shut behind me and seeing that our conversation was not just between us.
Half of the staff stare at me with either bewilderment or shock, in the middle of all of them stands Christina, eyes wide with shock. As always she reacts before everyone else, "What is this? Jerry Springer? Get back to work it's none of your business," She shoos everyone off, hands on her hips and tilting her head, glaring at them. Then she turns to me, her brown curls bouncing in her loose bun as she walks over to me. Then her hand is on my arm and we're heading outside. Normally I wouldn't be so compliant to let someone touch me, let alone lead me anywhere, but when we are outside I don't regret it. Her hands work deftly as she pulls out a pen and slip of paper, writing something down quickly, "She's going to get you fired, I can put in my good word for you and work my magic, but I would start looking for another job, hope that interview works out for you," She hands me the slip of paper and looks at me, her hazel eyes filled with concern and slight annoyance. "You didn't go to an interview, did you?"
"No," I admit, "I was at a funeral, my parents," I tell her, she stares at me for a few moments before sighing and pulling me into a hug. She doesn't say she's sorry for my loss, she doesn't ask if I'm okay, because I'm obviously not. She doesn't try to comfort me like I'm a fragile thing in her arms. Instead she scolds me, "Don't ever lie to me again," She pulls away and holds me at arm's length, her brows are furrowed in frustration, "Yes ma'am," I say, grinning at her, as Christina wouldn't every get truly mad at me, she's not that type of person. She rolls her eyes at me, a smile breaking out on her own face, "Take a look at that address I wrote down, I've got a friend who works there and he might be able to help you,"
"Thank you,"
"Oh hush, get out of here, take a break," Christina says to me, "Do some shopping or something,"
"Right," I say to her with a smirk. Hugging her one more time, "I'll give you a call later," And then I'm slipping away from her, away from her mocha skin and soft smiles. Away from her giggles to shove myself into seclusion, to mope away the life given to me by those who lost theirs. My car is cold on the inside, but I welcome the feeling, it's better than my anger. My fingers grip the steering wheel before I slide the key into the ignition, starting the engine and staring out the window, before shifting the car into gear and driving back home.
I'm going to be honest, I thought I posted the second chapter... sorry c:
