This is stupid. Pointless. A waste of my time.
I'm fired. I haven't worked in a week. What is the point of dragging this all out? I mean, it's not like I killed the guy. I just busted up his face a little. No big deal. Why make such a fuss over it all?
I make it to the building with ten minutes to spare. Nice. Just enough time for a cigarette. I'm going to need one to make it through this.
I lean up against the wall, cupping my hands around it to keep the flame alight. As the nicotine shoots up to my brain, I sigh in content. They're bad for me, I know. But what else do I have to calm me down?
Nothing. That's what.
'Buddy system'. I take another drag as the words ring in my ears. What the hell is that supposed to achieve? Why would throwing two socially awkward individuals, full of all kinds of unspeakable issues, into a combined livelihood be a solution to their problems? Surely, it will just make everything worse? Either they're going to retreat further into themselves out of blind terror, otherwise they'll lash out and someone will end up with a face like mincemeat. And that isn't going to be me, thank you very much.
I'm a fighter. I always have been. My mam was always getting calls from the school about the newest addition to my list of boys I'd knocked out. I was constantly in trouble with the teachers for lashing out at them. Particularly the male variety. Pretty sure I remember biting one of them when they got too close for my liking...
Pah. Cigarettes don't last long enough these days. I flick the butt away from me, watching it narrowly miss the face of a particularly arrogant looking bloke. I snigger as he blinks in confusion, turning into the building before he can work out where it came from. Ah, the torture of the opposite sex is always fun. So long as they keep their distance...
I've never actually been in here. I've never really needed to. My interview was in a cafe with the manageress. She knows Dr. Hallet. She kind of did me a favour in getting me the job, really. Explained my 'situation', my problems with men. And she understood, I suppose. So, you know. I've never needed to step foot in here.
But it's not like I was missing anything. This place is disgusting. The wallpaper is peeling. The carpet is full of dust. I mean, I know I'm not exactly the Queen of Clean or anything. But surely, if you're running a business, you need to pick up your act a bit.
Straight down the hall and to the left. Those are the instructions I was given on the phone. Sit and wait for her to arrive. I can do that.
I feel my feet sticking to the carpet as I make my way down the corridor. Oh Jesus. This is just foul. I'll have to file a complaint myself...
As I turn the corner, I can hear a roar of laughter. Deep, masculine laughter. No. No, they can't have...
Sure enough, the room that I'm supposed to be sat in is full of men. And by full, I mean full. At least ten of them. All sat around, joking amongst themselves. No clue that they've just set off a ticking time bomb in my brain.
What do I do? I have to go in there. I have to be responsible for a change. Show these arseholes that firing me hasn't fazed me in the slightest.
I take a step forward, my leg as heavy as lead as it moves. Thump, thump, thump goes my head. My palms are sweating. My throat is sore. Come on, Alex. Just do it. Just do it...
Nope. Can't. Won't.
I spin around, needing to get as far away from this place as quickly as I can. Fuck this place. If telling me all the stupid shit I did whilst I was with them is that important, they can come to me. Away from all the threats to my already fading sanity.
