Soulless

THREE

Skye Aprile

Its twenty past eight, how do I know that? Well, it's because of my fucking alarm constantly reminding me that I can no longer be unconscious. 

Yesterday I had finally found a place that may accept me, I know I have the extremely young , almost doll like features but come on! An ID should be enough to reassure them that I'm not twelve. In some interviews I had been questioned about my financial state, I'd replied with ' I shouldn't even be looking for a job to be honest, I've got more than you'll ever have', I hadn't meant it in a snobby way, its just the way I had phrased it... it isn't hard to guess what the outcome from that interview was. 

Yes I am a billionaire but I've got so much free time on my hands that I don't know what to do with myself... Yes I sing twenty-four seven, but it isn't very productive and it isn't all that great having a constantly itchy throat. I just wanted a job so that I wouldn't be sat on my ass all day, everyday, scrolling through Netflix endlessly because I've already watched everything they have to offer. I just thought that not doing something with my life was a waste, yes I've got money and amazing grades; thank you Lord for the rehab center, but I don't have any hobbies or skills... If singing is a hobby, then I guess I do have one but despite me living alone for these past two years, I still cant handle myself in the kitchen which means I usually eat out or order in along with the delivered snacks from online shopping. The pain of literally having no life, my life is basically worth nothing in helping the community and/or other people. 

Dragging myself out of my heated cushioned bed, I rise almost like the dead. Stretching my arms above my head, clicking a few joints in the process and yawning with a mouth the size of a tennis ball, I look to the clock on the wall... 08:50 AM  I had been laying in bed for half hour thinking about how lazy I am and how I should change my ways, I wasted a good half hour doing nothing but letting my brain wonder aimlessly. 

Productive time! Rushing to get up, I hop into the shower and do my ten minute routine. When I step out into the misty steamy air; I breath in deeply and begin to towel dry my blonde hair. Without the need of makeup and a fresh face, i can just head out the front door once I slip into a tight black sheath dress and a pair of matching black stiletto's. 

As the glass elevator looks out upon the city surrounding the apartment complex, I begin to analyse the weather - sunny and warm but possibly a slight breeze (the leaves on the few trees  around the area are swaying in a calm motion). The doors slide open on the ground floor and my heels click as I glide out. 

'Ah miss Aprile! Lovely to see you on such a fine morning' The doorman, Edward says. 

Edward is an old fellow who has been working at this complex for a while; at around the age of seventy he thinks that being sat around all day and that he would rather open and greet people at the doors. This elderly man has my utmost respect. 

'You too Edward! Have a nice day, hopefully I'll catch ya later?'

'Will do girly, I'll be here as usual' he chuckles lightly. 

I wave as I descend the steps and begin my walk two blocks away to get to the well known restaurant I'm hoping I'll get a job in. Its exterior is unique in contrast to the landscape around it; castle like features, high walls, huge doors and windows. whilst some may think the outside looks magical, there are those who have walked through the doors and saw the beautiful and intricate detail of the interior. 

Why am I even applying for a job here? I don't know the first thing about being a chef, I don't even know how to cook pasta! 

By the time my negative thoughts had arisen I'd already strolled though the restaurant doors and headed for the booking booth. The middle aged woman peers up at me from her screen for a few seconds before returning to what she was doing.