Chapter Two
“Come in,” the gruff voice bellowed.
I opened the door and timidly walked in and then quietly closed the door behind me. I stood there
staring at my boss, Mr. Johnson. He was a large man, with white balding hair and a face as red as
a tomato. He almost reminded me of Santa Clause, that is if Santa constantly had a scowl on his
face and wiped his brow as the never-ending sweat dripped down toward his eyes. Mr. Johnson
didn’t stand, heck he barely even looked up at me, and I didn’t make a motion to sit. I had a feeling
this was going to be brief.
“You’re fired,” he said. “Now pack your things and get out.”
He took this opportunity to look back down at the piles of papers on his desk and I took this as my
cue to leave. I turned on my heels and made my way toward the door, once again opening it as
quietly as I could but this time making sure that I slammed it as hard as I could muster.
I already had all of my personal effects as I made sure to not bring anything of importance to the
office so I casually strode out of the office and into the parking lot. I sat in my beat up Nissan Sentra
with my head against the steering wheel. I desperately tried to hold back my tears while I cursed
myself for feeling so weak. I gently lifted my head off the steering wheel and looked out the window
and noticed people leaving the building. Some shot sideways glances in my direction and I
diligently ignored them. I started up my car, pulled out of the lot and began making my way toward
my apartment. About a mile down the road I noticed a billboard showing that the lottery was
currently up to $244 Million.
“Why the hell not,” I muttered to myself as I pulled into the nearest gas station.
“What can I help you with, dude?” the shaggy-haired boy asked me. I stared at him for a
moment wondering how he could even see me through the hair covering his eyes.
“One ticket for the Mega Millionaire, please, and I’m not a dude.”
“Okay, ma’am, that will be $1.00,” the cashier said with a smirk.
I handed the puny boy my money and he gave me back my ticket. I stuffed it in my wallet as I
walked out the door. I dug through my bag trying to locate my keys as I walked out of the gas station
and directly into someone. I felt the cool liquid cascade down my shirt before fully understanding
what happened. I looked up to meet the eyes of a teenage girl who couldn’t have been more than
16 years old.
“Why don’t you watch where you are going, lady?” she sneered. “You almost made this soda
spill all over my new Gucci shoes!
“Excuse me!” I began screaming. “You just spilled your soda ALL OVER ME!” I got up in the
bratty girl’s face.
She instantly looked shocked and scared and quickly walked back to her car still holding the
now empty cup. I could not believe how horrible this day has been going and decided I just needed
to make it back to my apartment so that I could just relax and forget everything that has happened. I
got back in my car and had to turn the key three times before it would finally start. I started driving
home and decided to call the only friend I had left, since most of my other “friends” were apparently
only nice to me because of my ex-boyfriend.
“What’s wrong?” Lilly asked after picking up the phone after the second ring. Lilly works until
5PM so she knew it was important if I was calling her.
“Where do I start?” I groaned. “I got fired after working a full shift and had some horrible,
stuck-up teenage whore spill her drink all over the front of my shirt at the gas station.”
“We are going out tonight, and I don’t want to hear any rebuttal from you. I will pick you up at
five-thirty so be ready. “
“What do I need to wear?” I asked. I knew there was no point in arguing with her; even if I
said no, she would be here regardless.
“Jeans and a nice shirt is fine; we are going to an art show my company is hosting. There
will be free food and free drinks, which is definitely something you need tonight.”
“Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you,” I said honestly. I hung up the phone
just as I was pulling into my apartment complex. I walked the short distance to my lower level
apartment and noticed the note on my door.
‘NOTICE OF EVICTION: Please have all personal effects removed from the
premises within 30 days.” I read the notice over and over again until I was crying so hard
the words were no longer visible. Seth had really screwed me over big time. Apparently
he not only cleaned out our bank account but he also cancelled our rent check. I walked
into my apartment and dropped everything on the floor and made my way to my
bedroom. After this day I needed a nap.
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