Chapter One

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Chapter One


I sat down on my couch, one leg folded over the other, Samson sat at my feet, I couldn't figure out what I wanted to write. I was tasked this week to write the column, an article if you will and hadn't gotten very far.

I work for Harrison Electricity, Beauty and Pharmaceutical Corp. There are twenty-five floors to the building, and my floor is the twenty-fourth. Well, now it's the twenty-fifth. 

I was sent an email while I was away a month ago on a summer getaway that didn't end so well, and that email was from my boss, stating that I was being moved from the twenty-fourth floor to the very top floor of the building. 

I had been replaced by somebody who had come in, my things were in a box labeled with my name, sitting outside my office room, or so says Rafe, the director who runs the building, he doesn't own the building. Nobody in our building has actually even seen who owns it except the twenty-fifth floor where the owner Mr. Harrison resides to be. 

The rest of the building has never seen him, we've only heard stories of what he looks like.

My phone rings jarring me out of my thoughts of the office, I pick up my phone and see a name I hadn't seen in a while. 

"Raven! Are you back yet? Did you get the email? You're finally coming up on my floor!" Helga who is nothing like what her name sounds like squeals on the other end of the line. 

"I'm not that excited about it Helga, I don't really want to-" 

"-get out of bed or leave the house, I know! But eventually, you're going to have to face reality, Holten was a real nice sweetie pie and assface didn't deserve your love, but now you get a better chance to try to shape up your life, and spend your work hours with me!" Helga exclaims into the phone.

"I don't want to!" I whine pathetically through the phone. 

"Tough bitch, I'm coming in with some fresh doughnuts from the store, I also got Sammy a treat!" Helga sings songs as I hear a loud thud against my front door, then Helga's loud footsteps as she opens the front door with too much force. 

I whirl around as my front door is kicked in, Samson jumps up in his own version of a heart attack and I spill my cup of coffee on my cream-colored couch. 

Helga pops into view around the corner of my front hall and throws her bags and overcoat over the back of the couch and is instantly at Samsons side, "Hi my little Sammy, I got you a treat." She says, getting up to rummage in her bags on the couch, pulling out a giant cookie treat for a dog and handing it to Samson. 

With his tail wagging, Samson happily takes the treat in his mouth, walking away and around the coffee table to his bed stationed in the far corner. 

I owned a small one-bedroom little squared house, one that sat on the lake, no other neighbors for miles. I owned a five-acre backyard, the rest was free reign in the woods and I loved my property.

Being an editorial manager, I oversee all things writing. I get to sometimes let my mind take me as I am able to write my own features in the articles, but when I'm not putting my own mind into it, I sit down and go through others, run everything paper, article, blog to make sure that what we present is all pure authenticity and good enough to push forward.

I make good money, but that has only made me look better in my father's eyes, he was always off on every important business meeting whereas my mother was the stay-at-home mom, and my father made the money. 

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