These Wicked Games

Chapter 1

And... submit. I hit enter on the keyboard and take a deep breath as I sit on my broke down spring mattress on the floor. But my mind and my heart wouldn't settle.

For the millionth time, submit!

Frustrated, I keep jabbing the enter button on the laptop, nearly breaking the poor thing.

What was the point in even applying anymore? I've exhausted all the open positions, to the point where I was applying to anything and everything even if it made no sense to me at all. And still, nothing.

"I just need a fucking job, universe please!" I whisper to myself as I close my laptop and place it on the floor next to me.

I fall back down on top of the mattress and a protruding spring jabs me in the back, making me flinch. I grab my pillow and scream at the top of my lungs into it so my neighbors won't hear.

Story of my life.
Well that's gonna bruise.

Frustration is not a strong enough word to describe what I've been feeling lately. I'm tired, so tired and so done with life and all the bullshit that comes with it.

I lost my job six months ago.

How, you might ask?

Hell if I know, I've been living paycheck to paycheck my whole life and thought I deserved more, I guess. I scoff and shake my head at the memory of my arrogance.

Well, one day I walked into my boss's office, hoping that after a decade of service and never once asking for or receiving a pay raise, that maybe I'll be able to get something.

Instead, they turned the whole thing around on me and said that I should start looking for a better paying job elsewhere.

I was confused for a second, asked what that meant and this time they said, they're letting me go. That they're doing me a favor and that I deserve better.

Wait, what? I remember thinking at the time. How the hell does that make any sense? I need more money and you let me go instead?

I felt thoroughly manipulated and thoroughly fucked. And not in a good way, might I add.

And so here I am, a couple of months late for rent, and panicking. I haven't had a real meal in weeks, knowing that money needs to go to electricity so I can keep applying to jobs I'll never get. I've submitted my resume to so many jobs I honestly lost count.

My stomach growled loudly, reminding me that I haven't eaten shit all day. "Ramen again tonight it seems, belly." I tell my stomach as I rub it and make my way to the kitchen.

It's not like it's a long walk, I got a shitty studio apartment to be close to the job I no longer have and on the wall adjacent to my bed, there are a couple kitchen cabinets and the smallest electric coil stove I've ever seen in my life, but it gets the job done.

I open the cabinet above it, reach up blindly and move my hand around, feeling for a packet of dried up noodles.

Hmm, dust.... and... crumbs.

"Okay, I guess no food tonight either."

As I'm about to pull away, something furry scurries across my hand scaring the crap out of me. "Shit! Fucking shit! Fuck!" I scream and slam the cabinet shut as I fall back, my heart pounding out of its chest.

"Fucking rats!" I seriously hate this place and that is it for me. I can't hold back the tears anymore.

Feeling defeated, I head back to bed, pull the covers over my head and cry until sleep takes me.