There had been many times throughout my life I'd heard the saying "love will make you do crazy things" but I never really understood the phrase.
Well, not until I met him.
He was the definition of chaotic, the definition of crazy and dangerous but y...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
After the past few days, I didn't think anything else could possibly surprise me let alone scare me.
Yet I was proven wrong with the boss of the company I worked at called for me to go to his office.
I'd never met the man in person before which is why I became worried to begin with.
On my way to his office I'd come to the conclusion that I was being fired, after all luck didn't seem to be in my favor lately.
Yet what I least expected for was him to offer me a promotion.
"I-I'm confused"
"Was I not clear enough? I want you to become a full time writer. I've been told some good things about you by that friend of yours so I'm willing to give you a chance"
So viola was behind this?
"Your first article will be about that bank robbery, you had first hand experience in the matter which will give us the advantage above the other news reporters"
He lent back in his chair with a smug look on his face.
The middle aged man was everything I expected him to be, scruffy haired and pot bellied, straight to the point and desperate for his own way.
The promotion wasn't about me being a good writer or even being deserving of the position. It was purely about my first hand account of the bank robbery being able to help increase the ratings.
"I think that story has been covered" I admitted
In all truth, I didn't want to write about the event. Not after everything that has happened since.
I valued my life more than I valued this job.
"But not by you. I expect it to be printed within two days"
He lazily looked down at his watch before huffing.
"You may leave now"
"But-"
"I don't repeat myself"
I closed my mouth and decided I wasn't winning this battle.
As I left his office I questioned how I could possibly write the article without being murdered for it.
I made my way home with a heavy head. I very much doubted I'd be able to sleep through the night with writing the article being on my mind.
I sat on my bed, leaning against the head board with my laptop sat on my lap as I stared at the blank page.
