I'm Still Here!

1. Work Day

(READ THIS!!: TRIGGER WARNING!! This book will have detailed descriptions of gore, possible self harm, blood, etc!! READ AT OWN RISK)

(This will probably be short)

In this world, instead of your soulmates first words written to you on your arm, it's their last. It's cruel, horrifying to say the least, but it is what it is. How it will always be.

You thought about that on the way to work, wondering why it came to be that way. You looked at the words branded into your skin.

"I'm still here!" It said. You let out a pained chuckle. If only what they said would be true. If only.

You continued to walk and soon got to work. You opened the door to be greeted with the buzzing of lights and mumbling customers. You didn't like working at the rundown shop market, but it's the only job around with surprisingly decent pay, so you make do.

You grab your scanner, price gun, and walkie-talkie, and go to the back of the store where supplies were. Row after row of tall shelves filled with items seemed to loom over you. You sighed and got to unboxing, organizing, and pricing them. One box at a time.

"What a great way to start the week. Unboxing shit in this stuffy fucking room. It probably hasn't been cleaned in months." You said under your breath. "It's worse with this dust allergy..Why did I have to be put on unboxing today?" you didn't like unboxing, but it was better than being a cashier and having to deal with rude ass customers. You had lashed out at a guy before because he tried to grope you, and immediately were pulled from that line of work for a few weeks. You didn't care and were thankful for having a decent human as a manager. 

You finish unloading about 20 boxes before you get to go home. You let out a sigh of relief as you stand up and crack your back. You put your tools away and walk out of the backrooms, greeted with the quiet darkness of the store.  

'Must've closed without me...assholes..' you thought. You sigh and take out your keys and unlock the door of the market and walk out. You re-lock it and put your keys back and begin walking home. The cool breeze of the night air gently plays with your hair and loose clothes as you walk. The streetlights illuminating the path with a dim glow, trees swaying softly, and the fluttering of bat wings calmed you, in a, weird sort of way, but it was nice. It was the perfect evening.

'If only It would be that way tomorrow.'

You scoffed at that thought. You had it every time it was a good night, and the day after would always be shitty. It was like some curse that was cast to keep you from enjoying a single day of your life. It didn't matter though. It never did to you; you just shrugged it off and kept going, effectively pissing off anyone who tried to mess with you.

Speaking of which, here comes an asshole right now.

You sighed as you were pushed to the ground and had a knife pointed at you. The dick-wad in the moment was a skinny, crusty man wearing a wife-beater and a black hoodie; with some dirty jeans and torn up converse. "Give me your damn money, and no one gets hurt." he said in an angry tone. You snickered, "Oh woow a knife. How original. Are you seriously going to try and mug me when I'm having a good night?" you asked, annoyed. "TRY?! I am mugging you now give me your fucking money bitch!!" he yelled. You smirked and got up, "Nah. I got better things to do than give my little money to some rando trying to mug me with a dull knife and failing to do so. So thanks, but no thanks. Bye dude." you said in a bored manor and walked away. You chuckle to yourself as you heard the guy yelling in frustration as you royally pissed him off. 

You sigh and finish walking back home and go inside to be greeted by your cat named Caviar. You smile as he runs up and rubs his little face on your leg and purrs. You go and refill his food and water and go into your room. You throw your clothes off and get into the bed and snuggle into the warmth of your blankets. Caviar soon climbs on and curls up next to you as you both drift off to sleep.

(WC: 769)