Reaching Absolute

Chapter One

      The sound of trickling water splashes onto the bottom of the tub as I take in the hot sensation of the pounding shower head. My tears ran in with the hot water and I couldn't distinguish them apart. All the emotions lay out naked on my body, plastered on my skin, but I didn't feel anything. How could I? Adria came into my world when I needed her the most and I didn't even realize it at the time. But she wasn't who I thought she was, or even remotely who I first assumed she was. 

      The shower water is running cold and I recognize my mental timer buzzing, to remind me to remove myself from the self-pity and to reenter the real world with the working adults and not to play into anymore fantasies that Adria led me to believe. I had to pinch myself every time my old memories brought me back to all the good she gave me. She shared her wisdom with me, and for everyone around her.

 ~~ 

      My alarm decided to disobey its one simple job, but I had been just ignoring my stupidity for not setting it correctly on my phone. My phone was actually trying to register me into a psychiatric home or to get me to commit suicide, whichever came first. I kept telling myself that I would get an iPhone, but every time I walked by the big, white Apple store I realized something: I was broke as hell and couldn't afford the phone or phone plan. So here I was, stuck in the mud with this crappy flip phone and a crappy alarm, which made me late for every appointment in my life.  

      Today, the screaming sunlight jolted me awake, telling me I should already be at work. My body jumped out of the covers and into my work clothes, which consisted of a white top and black khakis, the only clean clothes left because I hadn't done laundry in over two weeks. Most of the time, I woke up naturally before the phone and the sunlight, but last night I happened to be pulling-an-almost-all-nighter. My boss decided to throw his entire work case on me. I muscled through the material to impress him, but he was going to be anything but impressed if I didn't get it into him.

      I lived in New York City, so my life consisted of walking everywhere, whether I liked it or not. Work, home, and grocery store were all placed within a few blocks of my little existence, but so were about a thousand other people. It made for crowded sidewalks, overbooked buildings, streets, grocery lines, and overall every square inch of New York. Although foot traffic moved pretty quickly, it was not fast enough to make it to work.  

      I grabbed a yellowish-green banana from the shelf of pantry, rushing like Mom did when she became frantically late. It must be hereditary. My apartment building had ten floors and an elevator that broke down more than carried residents on average. It was similar to the one on the Big Bang Theory.  

      I bounded down the stairs swinging the door open. My footsteps echoed on the tile through the empty lobby, where the lazy, but well-meaning door man sat behind the desk. His name was Norman. Norman the doorman. He resembled that lanky, terrifying glare look from Norman in Psycho, but I knew he could never hurt a fly. Unfortunately, he had no purpose in life, but to be a doorman. He came from a long line of doormen in his family as I learned from my first conversation with him the day I moved in. I felt bad for the uneducated, poor chap who wouldn't get anywhere in life, but then I realized I had my own butt to feel sorry for.

      I yelled a quick "hello" to Norman as I flew out the door onto the busy street with yellow cabs and bikers. His skinny arm rose to wave at me in recognition, unaware of the world around him. He just sat there all day and I was surprised a place like my apartment could afford a doorman. He really should be referred to as the telephone-man; he only ever answered the telephone, barely ever.

      My mind quickly shifted from thinking about Norman to work. I worked at this magazine called Premium. Different issues published each month, focusing on different topics from what was hot and current in music and movies to celebrity gossip to political debate summaries and new Congress legislation. I wish I called myself a prestigious writer that was what everyone assumed when I said I worked at Premium. That was my goal to be one of those well-known names in the journalist industry, but unfortunately, I was an assistant to the top assistant, who assisted the head editor of the magazine. I did want to write. I became obsessed with creating the perfect journalist life.