PREGNANT FOR BROTHER IN LAW

14: ......The Only Option.....Death?

Working doesn't look that bad. Sometimes it is tiring because you have a lot of utensils to work on in a shift and by the end of the day,  your hands are all white and pale, sometimes they are just numb and they can't feel anything. I try to think of ways to keep myself safe but turns out washing dishes is the only thing that is going to keep me safe. I am still getting paid the same fifty dollars a day which is not enough to get a house somewhere. I tend to move from one shelter to another, this helps to keep everyone away. Josh hasn't come to look for me, I doubt he will.

"Hey, young lady, today you will be taking orders from the booths, someone else is going to wash the utensils." my boss shouted from the window. I lift my head to look at him. I didn't know that I will have to serve people today. I think that is something that I am not ready for. Facing people out there and serving them, taking their orders? I am very clumsy and I might throw everything on the floor without noticing it. I look around at who is going to take my duty for the day but I can't see anyone. I want to protest but I have never known how to.
A book and a pen are placed in my hand, I change the apron and put on a white one. I don't know if I am ready to start the service part but I hope I will make it out.  I fear that this might mark the end of my working here today.

"Why are you still standing there, chap, chap, get to the booths, the customers waiting!" My boss startles me from my trance and I lift my feet to walk to the booths to try and take orders from the customer. Most of the customers are college students because there is a university just some meters away from the place. They are also preparing to close their campus for the Christmas holiday. They are sitting in pairs or groups. Girls hold hands with the boys while the boys are looking at them. Do I envy this? Yeah, I wish this is how my life was, I wish I could just sit around and hold someone's hand and forget that I am just an eighteen-year-old girl who needs to work hard in life.

"Hello, are you ready to order?" I asked trying to sound confident but deep down we know that I am not confident, I might break anytime in front of them.  They turn their heads stopping their conversation to look at me. My hands tremble a little on the small notebook but I try to hold it firmly to avoid messing this up.

"Please, serve them some tea, eggs, and some pie for the ladies," said the gentleman who looked like their leader. That didn't go bad, I wrote everything down and walked back to the serving center to give the order. Taking orders was hard. You had to walk from one place to another.  It's not like washing utensils, sometimes you can breathe fresh air outside,  watch as the skies turn blue, and even hear the chirping of the birds away from the different aromas that hit my nostrils making me full even before I get to eat.

"Vee, table eight!" my workmate shouts, and my heels turn towards table eight. I was so focused on the notebook and the pen to look at the customer.

"Excuse me, what would you like to order?" I asked as I write the number of the table and wait to write what is going to be ordered.

"I would love to order you back home!"

I lifted my head from my book and look at the person in front of me. My hands became stiff and I could feel every part of my body become cold. "Josh?" What is he doing here? I want to run away, jump, leave the place and never come back. I look around to check whether my boss is looking at me the same way he preys on us to see who he is going to fire next. 

Who even told Josh where I work? Don't tell me that he has some microchip inserted in my body to know my every movement. His eyes are red and he has some dark circles beneath them. So he has not been sleeping or he has been drinking?

"Are you listening to me, I want you back home with me, why did you leave?" he low_shouts while trying to act all cool. So, he doesn't remember he ordered me to save myself? I was trying to save myself from everything but look at me now, he has found me, next, will be dragging me out with my hair the same way he pulled me and dragged me across the floor. I don't want to go back, I feel safe here, I work, I don't get to be shouted at, and I get to do my things, though I depend on the goodwill of the shelter for clothes.