~Short story~
~BOTHWELL BUSINESS~
~18+~
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Casey has almost always been alone for the majority of her life. No friends and no family.
And she's had enough. She quits her poorly paying job, gets involved with...
Tell me in the comments what you all think of my first short story xx
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Casey fisher POV
I groaned as my annoying alarm bleeped waking me up once again. I slammed my palm down on it making it stop it's incessant ringing. Swinging my legs off the side of my creaky bed, I made my way to the shower. Continuing my morning routine, which included a cold shower followed by dressing in the same clothes as yesterday and then skipping breakfast. I had a look at my clock in the kitchen, on time as usual. Finally shoving on my plain black converse.
I shut the door and locked it, breathing in the smoky drug infested air. My stair-well dirty and uncared for.
Relatable. I thought.
I jogged lightly down the stair-case not waking any angry or high neighbours at 7am. Work was merely a 10 minute walk so it never really bothered me too much, also seen as it was probably my days exercise.
The cold breeze hit my face the moment I walked out the flats main door. I nodded with a polite smile to greet a resident who was walking by, they replied with a scowl and an almost growl.
If one thing I should've learnt by now, living here for 3 years is that no-one wants to know you or meet anyone new, they don't give a sh*t, they don't care! I should've stopped trying by now but I just couldn't Convince myself to stop trying. It's like it's built into me. My nature. Maybe one day someone here will respond with even a nod back. But of-coarse even that would be too much to ask for.
Christmas', birthdays, easters, halloweens. Everything. Spent by myself. I do have friends, two. They obviously have family and friends to spend those occasions with. Also they are mid to late twentys, so it's a bit embarrassing for them to introduce me to their friends. No one in the high rise is really my age or would have... good intentions with me. So I am on my own.
I walk into 'east bartrews' café. Café by day, pub by night. The owners had a large red velvet curtain deviding the two sides, possibly to shield the wondering eyes of young innocent children. This kind of pub was... special. Special as in site of drug deals. Like big ones. Ones that would bring the druggy b*stards big money. No-one would even dare to tell the police. Unless they wanted caught up in some unwanted gang drama. So you just keep your nose out of what not yours and you'll get on just fine with the locals.
"Morning frank" I popped my head through he curtain smiling to one of my friends, he worked as the pubs bartender.
"Alright Casey" he smiled back while cleaning a glass.
We were the only ones who came in early cause there was usually a mess left the night before and the pub and café are short on cleaning staff. Also the café opens at 9, which is earlier than the bar. But it's ok as long as we get a small bonus for staying there extra hours. I know it is extremely early but it's better than staying at 'home'.
