The Tiyanak

The Struggle

Alicia's hands were trembling as she placed the plastic cup on the table, feeling the liquid from inside warm her hands. She brushed back her hair with a sigh, the soreness of her eyes making it difficult to focus. She tapped about two keys on the mechanical till before she heard a growling tone in her ears.

"Excuse me."

Alicia turned back.

"I asked for coffee, this is tea!"

Alicia eyed the liquid in the cup. It was a dark shade of brown – but not the darkest of browns. And the loose piece of string hanging on the side, connected to the bag that swam in the middle of it, was proof of the accusation. Alicia shook her head.

"Um, sorry, miss, I'll... er... get you..."

"I got this, love," Sasha cut in, handing a fresh cup with the correct liquid in it to the customer. "Sorry about that, that will be two fifty."

The woman paid for her drink, handing Sasha the correct change. Most of it was in coppers; probably done as a protest for having the wrong drink before, but Sasha kept her smile. She took her drink, muttering something sarcastic under her breath. Sasha waited until the customer was out of earshot before her smile dropped.

"Miserable cunt," she whispered.

Alicia emptied the tray of the latte machine, pouring the excess down the sink. Her arms were shaking so much that she was worried that she may drop it. Sasha saw the same terror in her eyes and rushed to help her. "Easy, girl," she said. "You all right?"

"Erm, I..." Alicia started. "I didn't... sleep well, last night."

"Want to talk about it?"

Alicia wished she could tell Sasha about her horrible experience. The Tiyanak, the cold chill that gripped her, and the screams – the soul-tearing screams. Now she was paying for it as she stumbled around work, trying desperately to get through today. So far, the morning had been a struggle – and she wasn't sure she could have coped it if wasn't for Sasha.

"Just," Alicia said, turning round, "I just had a bad night, is all."

"Was it anything to do with Joe?"

Alicia ran the tray under the hot water, scrubbing it with a nearby sponge. "Um... yeah," she replied, happy to have some sort of diversionary tactic, "yeah he – how did you know about him?"

"You posted a video about it."

"Oh shit, yeah. Sorry, I..."

"It's all right, babe," Sasha said, putting a hand on her, "If I see him, I'm going to cut his balls off – if he has any!"

"Girls? What's going on?"

Sasha rolled her eyes back into her head. "Yes, Clive?"

Their manager pointed towards five cups on the side of the serving desk, near the 'wastage' area. Though he hadn't such much, Sasha could tell by the way his grey hair flared that he was pissed about something. "Why do I have five drinks here?"

Clive was so precious about the way everything was done in this place that it bordered on being more like a dictatorship than a café. Even if the smallest thing was out of place, Clive acted like it would be the end of the world. One wastage was usually enough to set him off – but five? That was grounds for war in his eyes.

"I... made a few mistakes," Alicia admitted, her eyes aching.

"A few?" Clive said, his voice like a barely contained shriek. "Do you know how much this costs us when you make a mistake?"