One Hundred Letters for James

036

036:

Interning

(Farah is still... asleep. I'm worried. I'm always so worried.)

When you got your first job, I was kind of jealous, I'll admit. I wanted to make money, too, because at that point your mum was mostly providing for me since mine was... You know.

I wanted to work at the toy shop. I don't know why, but working with all those children appealed to me. And the one near us was family owned and very homey.

I couldn't get a job there, because I had a lack of experience. I was fine, I knew that there were plenty of internships available.

I got in at the mall, at a new perfume shop that had opened. I mostly just had to sit around and do some cashier work and help the customers every now and then, nothing too stressful.

But then there was the incident.

She must have only been nine or ten, but she seemed so, so old.

She asked me for some help picking I out a nice scent, and when I asked the occasion, she said it was to impress a boy.

Oh no, I had thought. This can't go right. I knew from experience.

"Oh, are you sure you want to do that?" I had asked, trying to advise her against it.

She just scrunched up her nose and said in an obvious tone, "Yeah,"

I walked with her around the store, and in an attempt to make conversation I asked, "Who's the lucky guy?"

"My best friend," My breath caught in my throat.

"Aw. That's, that's, that's sweet." I cleared my throat. "Excuse me,"

I had ran into the bathroom and I cried for a long time, so long that they thought I'd been locked in.

A day later they let me go, said I 'wasn't what we're looking for'.

No one's looking for me. Why would they want me?