I'm finishing up my shift at the Waffle House. It's currently 2:45 and I'm supposed to get off at 3 pm. I'm cleaning up the dishes at table five when my boss, Anthony, calls me to the back. I started my first job when I was fourteen and lying about my age. I could pass for older so it wasn't hard. I've always worked my ass off saving up my way to freedom.
"You called me?" I ask by way of greeting. Anthony gestures to the folding chair in front of his desk. He's been my boss for the 2 years I've worked here. I wouldn't say he's terrible but he's definitely not the best boss I've ever had. I sit down and wait for him to start what he wanted to say. My feet finally feeling a sense of relief.
"Aria, I'm afraid this next paycheck will be your last." He looks at me with fake sincerity in his eyes.
"What?", I blink, "What do you mean? Why?"
Anthony just looks at me for a moment, "We had to make a few budget cuts and you're the youngest employee, you've been here the least amount of time. So we're cutting you. It's nothing against you specifically, or your work ethic." He shrugs nonchalantly, "Jus' how it worked out."
"I work harder than any of those fuckers?!" It doesn't really matter if I get fired, I was going to get my two weeks notice soon so I can move to Boston but that's not the point.
Anthony starts to go beat red, his tell when he's pissed, "There's no need for excessive insults", he hands me an envelope and taps it, "There's your payment from the last two months."
I genuinely don't care but I do work harder than anyone. This shit hole wouldn't be running if it weren't for me. Especially when Anthony doesn't get off his ass.
It's fine. I'll just move to Boston early, it'll give me time to settle in anyway.
Without saying anything I stand, nod once, then walk out and don't stop until I'm in my car. I sit in silence for about half an hour before deciding I'll go home, pack and leave for Boston first thing tomorrow. I'll sleep in my car before classes at Boston University start if I have to, but I'm getting out of here. I know I should say bye to mom before I leave but I just don't want to. If that makes me selfish, sorry but I deserve it after everything she put me through. The thought of my mother brings back a buried memory.
"Stop it!" I scream at mommy's new boyfriend Chris. I heard something break and I ran out of my room and found him hitting her.
"Shut it girl!" he yells at me, his eyes are dark again, "You'll be next if you don't learn to mind you're own business."
I blink back to the present, my chest filled with an overwhelming pain. I put the car in reverse and back out. My chest just keeps getting heavier. My lungs are on fire, my vision blacking out.
Just make it home Ari, it'll be ok just make it home.
Once I get to my apartment I run inside breathing heavily. I sit against the door, the start of a panic attack brewing.
Breathe Ari...breathe.
I stand and walk into my bedroom. I throw open my closet doors and use a shoe horn to pry up the loose floorboard. Inside is a small wooden box no bigger than a phone. I pick it up and open it grabbing the lighter that lay atop a stack of old photos. Struggling to breathe, I unbutton my jeans and pull them down to my knees. Flicking the lighter on, I hold it at my inner thigh. I hiss as the flesh burns, but it grounds me and I'm able to calm down. It sounds bad but the burning helps. I started it when I was 15, after...
His left hand is holding both my wrists down, I can't move he has me pinned. I'm scared, I don't understand...I don't....it hurts..
I move the lighter to my other thigh and do the same. Damn it Ari, get it together.
