Five Nights | A Novella

Steve Raglan

    "Number 48," a social worker announced loudly, catching Carissa's attention. She quickly glanced at the slip of paper in her hand and confirmed that it matched the number that had just been called. With a deep breath, she rose from her seat and followed the social worker's instructions to the second floor. As they reached the top of the staircase, the social worker pointed to a room on the right. Carissa expressed her gratitude with a nod and made her way towards it, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation bubbling inside her.

Upon entering the room, Carissa paused for a moment, taking in the sight of a man with his back turned to her. He was quietly humming to himself as he examined the contents of her portfolio. Unsure of whether to greet him or wait for him to acknowledge her, she hesitated before sliding into the chair across from him. Sensing her presence, he spun his chair around to face her, his piercing blue eyes framed by a pair of glasses, narrowed as they met hers.

"What is your deal, Carissa? Are you some kind of... headcase?" he asked abruptly, tossing her carefully prepared portfolio aside. Carissa felt her heart sink, realizing that this meeting might not be going as she had hoped. "You assaulted a woman at your workplace," he stated matter-of-factly, shaking his head with disappointment.

"That was a mistake," Carissa replied quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She could already feel the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

"A mistake," Steve repeated, scoffing to himself. He glanced back at her portfolio, trying to figure out who she was exactly. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and Carissa almost caught a glimpse of a fleeting grin on his face.

"Coffee?" he offered, his demeanor taking an unexpected turn. Carissa was taken aback by the sudden shift in his attitude. "Sorry?" she asked, feeling a bit confused. Just moments ago, she had thought he was about to dismiss her, and now he was offering her a cup of coffee.

He got up from his chair and walked to the coffee machine. "Uh, do you want some coffee? I made some coffee," he offered, pouring himself a cup. Carissa muttered a hesitant "No," still trying to process the situation. He shrugged and returned to his desk, taking a sip of his coffee.

"I'm going to be brutally honest with you, Carissa," he said, sipping his coffee. "Given your track record, your options are going to be extremely limited." Carissa sighed, this wasn't going well for her. "I'll take anything, okay? Any job you have," she said, her determination shining through.

Steve cut her off, his tone serious. "No. No. Listen, I understand that. It's just... you know, it's not that simple." Carissa nodded, ready to accept her perceived failure and leave. But then, he surprised her.

"I have a job for you," he announced, causing her to spin around in her seat, her eyes widening. She sat back down and asked eagerly, "Okay, well, what is it?"

"It's a security gig," he explained. "Full disclosure: it's not great. High turnover. That's what we call it in the business. But you get to be your own boss, kind of. And you only have to worry about one thing: keeping people out and keeping the place clean."

"That's two things," Carissa pointed out with a touch of humor. Steve lowered his voice, looking at her intently. "Do you want the job or not?"

   Carissa stood at the threshold of uncertainty, her mind racing through the limited options before her. With cautious curiosity, she finally broke the silence. "How's the pay?" Her words hung in the air, a delicate balance of hope and apprehension. Steve's response, delivered with a mischievous grin, did little to assuage her concerns. "Not great, but the hours are worse." Carissa rolled her eyes, her realization dawning upon her. This might be her only option. Resigned, she sighed and forced a smile. "Yeah, sure. I'll take it."