Is This True?

Chapter 1

Click. Click. Click. Click.

The heels of my gray flats clicked as I hurriedly walked down the corridors of the long hallway.

Copies of paintings of various artists: Da Vinci, Monet, and Van Gogh stared back at me as if they were real and well alive. Their eyes penetrated back at me with a twinge of sadness. Others smiled back at me while others seemed indifferent. What were these people thinking? Were they unhappy? Were they joyful? Did they have struggles?

"They're not real."

I muttered to myself even though they felt very real to me, as well as the painter that painted them. Every art created has a reason whether it was by a passion or an inspiration. However, art is real if you make it.

If I had time to stand and gaze at the wondrous works of art from so long ago, I would, but as of right now, I was late for something extremely important.

A job interview.

I wasn't late--yet, but I wanted to be prompt to create a lasting impression. But you see, I've already failed the number one priority. Never be late.

"I knew I shouldn't have watched another episode."

I groaned thoughtfully to myself. Once you watch one, you have many more. How could I have been so foolish?

"Miss Jennifer Patterson?"

A middle-aged woman behind the front desk wearing black glasses lifted her dark-haired head as she inspected me, her eyes trailing up and down creepily.

"Yes?"

I didn't know what else to say. "I have an interview with--"

"Yes, I know."

The woman curtly cut me off, obviously annoyed by my gentle manners already. Surely, she must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed or maybe, even on the floor.

"He's waiting for you in the conference room. He was scheduled to have a meeting after the interview, but plans weren't scheduled right so you'll have more people at this time."

This time? What did she mean by that? Did she think I was going to fail? And oh! I have to be interviewed in a room full of unknown faces! Please, no!

"Umm..."
I stammered quietly, my eyes wandering everywhere, but hers.
"Where's the conference room?"

The woman sighed, her eyes squeezed tightly together to close, but to only open again.
"Oh, I forgot. You don't know where that is."

Clearly.

"Mr. Woods? Miss Patterson is here for the conference interview." The woman leaned down to her telephone to speak through it.

"Thank you, Beth. Bring her in," A man's voice spoke back.

Leaning back to face me, the woman--Beth--straightened upward then stood up, her hands smoothing her tight black skirt. For a middle-aged woman, she surely did dress sharply. I, on the other hand, had struggled with finding a skirt that fits perfectly. They were either too big or too small, but eventually, I found one at a local clothing store for a decent price.

"All right, follow me, miss."
Beth veered around the desk and opened a nearby door to reveal a long-lit hallway.

My head tilted sideways to get a better view of the desolate hall, but the impatience of Beth prohibited me. It somewhat reminded me of a hospital. Strange as it sounds, hospital hallways are usually long, white, bland, and eerily quiet. Too quiet, for my liking. They should play some music, but nothing too extravagant that would cause a seizure or something.

"The door to the conference room is on the end. You'll know it when you see it. It's a big sign. Conference. Room," Beth elaborated, spelling the two words out with her hand.

Leaving me completely alone, my two hands found each other as they clasped behind my back nervously. How was I supposed to be interviewed in a room filled with people? I could barely stumble over my words when I went to order food at a restaurant! Even if I did, they'd still get my order wrong. It seems to happen every time, unfortunately. If only one of my friends were here--

We had all graduated college, completely free. Almost. We had responsibilities to take care of such as our future families, new friends, jobs, and a home. We hardly had any time to talk to each other anymore, but since that forlorn day when we all finally went our separate ways, we made a promise. One that I'll keep this time:

That no matter what, we'd always remember each other.

It wasn't hard to find time for the other, it just was hard to keep that strong relationship that we had maintained in our past years.

Ann was meandering around in California, finishing up her long degree in veterinarian school. She's so smart in that field, I knew she'd make it even if she didn't believe me. Her love for animals was beyond degree along with the four dogs, two cats, a horse, and rabbits she owned at the ranch she had built. I would love to visit her sometime.

Chelsea's heart, on the other hand, belonged in Canada for several different reasons. Firstly, her love for music led her to teach music, specifically guitar to elementary students, and secondly, she found someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Jordan.
He was a swell guy. Who knew that when he caught her that first day of fall break four years ago that they'd look at each other in the eye and know that they were meant to be.

Then there's Maggie. She felt like she still belonged in Wisconsin so she moved back to stay. Old friends greeted her, but being Maggie, she took the separation harder than really any of us. I felt so bad that I couldn't be there for her even though, out of all of us, I was the closest in distance to her, if five hours is considered close. Hired by a school faculty, Maggie goes to work with a smile on her face knowing she loves the work that she does.
She was a full-time preschool teacher. Even if she was called a "kid hater" in her past, kids bring the kid inside of her out, though she's pretty good at doing that anyway.

Then there's me, just an ordinary girl who keeps to herself. I live in Iowa, a place I knew I was destined to be ever since high school; but after the move into a cozy apartment, I loved the new additions even when I'm alone. Just like Ann, I wasn't fortunate enough to find a boyfriend in college like Chelsea and Maggie. Chelsea was going to be married to Jordan soon while Maggie keeps mostly to herself about one guy she's been talking to. And I even heard she knew him in high school too. I wonder why she won't tell me.

I even told Ann, that if she were to go to the beach, I'm sure she'd be able to find some good-looking blond. I'm not even sure if she digs for blonds though. Maybe, but I haven't asked her, even if I did she'd probably give me a look and hit me soon after.

Upon nearing the door with the words Beth had so kindly spelled out for me: conference room, I forced myself to take a shaky breath before opening the door.
Would I fail? Would I get the job? What should I expect inside this room?

I'll just have to wait and see what happens.