The Long Walk

Chapter Two: Defeat

     I woke up on my floor, tears plastered on my face from the night before. The familiar sting hit my legs once I pulled myself off of the floor. It was Saturday, luckily I was able to get out of the house today but only to work. I worked at a pizza shop, and was the only girl in an environment of immature boys. Why did I choose to work here? I had to continuously remind myself of my uncles ownership. It was a job that paid under the table, a job that paid shitty but I loved cooking so I convinced myself it was worth it. I feel like I am constantly taken advantage of here though. I clean, cook, take orders, wait tables, and put through our drink and product orders. I am practically doing manager duties, but without the manager pay or title. I am walked all over, but god forbid I said a word, it'd go through the whole family then to my parents and I'd be screamed at. 

     After tying back my long black hair, I threw on a pair of sweatpants and my tight work shirt that showed both of my back rolls. I sloppily swiped mascara onto my lashes, my emerald green eyes were swelled. Smeared an ashy pink lipstick across my lips, cleaning up the edges. I wanted it to look like I put an effort in my appearance but it was hard to show any effort due to my body shape, I just looked like a waste of space. I went into the kitchen to grab a quick cup of coffee, but with my luck, it was all gone. My family will be the first to use up all of something then hiss at me for not replacing it. I put a reminder in my phone to grab more K-cups on the way home. I threw on my plain grey hoodie, grabbed my car keys, and was out the door. Thankful that I didn't have to see either of my parents this morning, I started my precious car that I worked very hard for. I work my ass off for everything that I have, that way my parents never buy anything for me, so they can't take it away when they're mad. 

     I pulled through the Dunkin Donuts Drive-Thru to get myself a large coffee, I knew I'd need at least three to get me through the day but I'd start with just one for now. It seems as if people want to test my patience when I am at work like they want to irritate me. Drivers forget food or drinks, people complain about an order that is there literally five minutes late, no one wants to take the trash out, I wish my uncle would take my advice once in a while and fire each person who thinks they're entitled. For example, Dalton who said he would only take the trash out if I made him a cannoli. He wanted to be rewarded for a job that he is already paid to do, he thinks he's doing something extra when really drivers are supposed to take the trash out. Or Logan, who thinks because he's older than me that he gets to boss me around. But I am just a stupid 17 year old who has no idea what she's talking about right?

     I squeezed my car into a parking space close to the back door, swung my bag over my shoulder and proceeded to walk inside. As soon as I reached the dining area I was absolutely disgusted. Tables were dirty from the night before, napkin holders were empty, ketchup bottles were empty, chairs weren't pushed in, high chairs were left out and weren't cleaned, the parmesan cheese wasn't changed, spices weren't filled, and the utensils were empty. Nothing was done! And of course, me being the push-over that I am I did it all within the hour before the two drivers arrived. 

     "Why do I keep putting up with this bullshit?" I mumbled to myself. 

     "Whatcha say?" I heard a deep, familiar voice. It was Spencer, one of the only guys I can joke around with comfortably, and will usually do what I ask.

     "Nothing." I spat out. He was silent afterward, he sat down at the table I just cleaned fiddling on his phone. I'm sure he could tell I wasn't in the mood to joke around. My legs were in pain, my makeshift bandages were falling off and small bits of blood was seeping through. I started to cry, but not a sad cry, it was an angry cry, a frustrated cry. When would things finally turn my way? When would I not constantly feel like shit? When would I get over this defeat? 

     I swiftly made my way to the bathroom, without Spencer detecting it. Once I was able to shut the hollow door silently I lost it. I broke down. I spend four days out of the week here and each day it seems as if it gets worse and worse. Tears rolled down my face and my nose started to run, while I'm yanking toilet paper from the dispenser to gain control over my running nose, I must've moved my leg too much. I felt the wounds that scarred over tear, and blood started gushing. 

     "God, why now??" I said louder than expected. I unraveled the bandage that was wrapped around my thigh. The store was opening soon, I knew I needed to get this taken care of as soon as possible. It seemed impossible as blood was beginning to roll down the edge of my thigh. I started to clean the wounds and apply pressure praying to a make-believe "God" that this bleeding would stop.

     Luckily, it stopped. And I began another shitty day at work.