It's late at night, strolling on the corridors of the restaurant. My body is weak, perhaps today I did not attend work but am just within the work place.
It's long since I met Mark and Keith down the streets.
I feel weak but I have to be strong for me to keep staying in this place.
Laziness is condemned here, that's the number one policy I was told when I arrived on the very first day.
On the far end I can see Leah, strong as her name suggests. She is busy serving her customers. Her tights has not fully covered her body. We are in the generation of my dress my choice. Nobody cares how you dress, at the end of the day it's you and your body. We are past life where elders could start pointing fingers at the youth. Instead they assimilated to this new generation.
But again this is a city, far away from the village. The dressing code is your solemny idea. No one is there to advise nor stare at you. I love this kind of life, where people mind their own business
"Evening Velma" come on you, how are you doing today?
Am fine better off, though my body feels very weak.
I murmured but I guess she heard what I said.
You ought to be strong and emberk back to your daily work, the more you sit feeling weak the more you get poor , no money at all.
In my thoughts I recall Mark, my caring soul. I wish he could be here, perhaps he could be taking care of me.
"Velma, stop pretending you need to seek medication as fast as possible, kindly.
Am sure that could be his words everyday untill I take some drugs.
But just imaging, he is not here anymore, I will have to take the zeal in my hands.
YOU ARE READING
At the end of the tunnel
Teen FictionThe story is about a resilient girl who kept fighting for her life and acts as a sacrificial lamb of her family. Through struggles she works extra to meet the needs of the family. Life at the city opens a new chapter in her life. She is forced to i...
