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31*> CONQUERED

                           CLAIRE'S POV

PRESENT DAY

The transition from living comfortably to extremely uncomfortably has been one of the most difficult things I have had to do in my life.

I have had lots of bad experiences in my life, but I can confidently say nothing is worse than living the life of a fugitive.

It's been nineteen days since I fled from my captive life and I can confess that the feeling of liberation felt good for only two seconds because reality set in afterwards.

I was now a twenty-one-year-old college dropout, living in a rundown apartment and working in a restaurant that paid a meagre amount, with the addition of having to look over my shoulder every second.

I had dyed my hair orange and changed the way I dressed to disguise my appearance but it still didn't dispel my anxiousness every time I stepped out of the house. Sometimes I even felt like I was being watched.

Then there's my financial crisis. I had exhausted all the money I had in hand and since I recently got my job at the restaurant, I hadn't earned much. I was literally living from hand to mouth at the moment.

"You do know that no matter how long you stare at it, it ain't gon' disappear right?" Tiffany asked.

I looked over my shoulder at my roommate coming out of the shared bathroom.

Tiffany was a tall black independent biatch, as she put it. I had met her at the hotel I was originally staying in.

She saw me crying and gave me a tissue. In my desolate tumultuous state, I told her half of my predicament and then she offered to let me sleep on her futon until I can find somewhere else to go.

My gaze shifted back to the debit card that was sitting on the centre table.

I had gone to the ATM today after work and I almost withdrew money from my account out of frustration, but I knew it could be easily traced back to me so I backed out.

"Shit ain't gon' happen if you keep relying on their money. You need to fucking grow a pair and finally stand on your own two feet," Tiffany said as she sat on the sofa.

I knew she was right. I had kept the debit card in my possession, until now, as a backup plan just in case things got too rough, but I knew it was wrong.

I swallowed, "What- What if I take a bus very far away and just take a little cash? Just a tiny bit. I mean there's a lot of money just sitting there. We could fix the aircon, I could get a real mattress, and I could treat us to a proper meal." I reasoned.

"That is a fucking stupid idea. Let's say you're not caught, that's beside the point. Bitch you need to learn to become self-reliant. You can't keep relying on your parent's fucking money forever." she persuaded.

She was right again. If I wanted to make something of my life, I needed to start disciplining myself into being content with whatever I earned.

She turned to me, "Didn't you say you left because you wanted to take control of your life? Well you have the control now, so take the fucking bull by the horns and be responsible for your shit," she added.

I sighed before picking up the scissors and the card on the table and slowly shredding into it.

"Ain't that better?" she nudged my shoulder as she cackled.

"No, it isn't," I grumbled as I stood up and went into the kitchen to find something to eat.

When I got into the kitchen I checked the pots but they were all empty. I checked the cupboard and mini fridge for anything to prepare, but the only thing I found was a jar of pickles and a few cans of tomato paste.