Volière walked into the hospital. She was a doctor. She in fact, had recently received a call to come to work earlier than usual. Why? The woman had no clue.
"Hello Miss Jackson, please have a seat."
She nodded and sat down on the white, slightly cushioned chair. It smelt faintly like vinegar.
"Why was I called here?"
"Do you remember the gas leak incident Miss?"
Volière nodded, cringing at the memory she had tried so hard to suppress.
"It was horrible, but I'm glad I managed to get out some of the children I had been working wit-"
"That's what I'm here to say," Her boss sighed making his face wrinkle up.
"We're letting you go. The company has reasons to believe that you are somehow included in this... situation."
Volière's eyes widened. She did nothing of the sort.
"Well, if that's what you've wanted to say. I shall pack up my bags."
There was a silence between the two. Even though it was clearly awkward to both of them, neither of them said anything. The young woman in the room kept eye contact, along with a straight face. Yes, she was deeply offended but that wouldn't change her appearance.
Finally, a word was spoken.
"You may pack up your bags Miss Jackson."
She nodded to her boss and left the room. And with that, Volière went home soon afterwards. As soon as the front door was unlocked, she jumped onto her couch. It was coated in fuzzy and soft blankets. There was a mermaid pillow with sequins you could move around.
The woman buried her head in one of the pillows and screamed into it.
"Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy..."
... After getting her frustration out she flipped over making her stomach face the ceiling.
"Are you alright miss?"
Volière looked up only to see a man in a suit. She chuckled, embarrassed she left her front door open.
"I'm fine sir." She clarified with a fake as plastic smile.
The man did not look amused. Her smile went away.
"Have a lovely night sir." She said, in attempts to end the conversation with this man.
The woman got up and was about to touch the doorknob when she realized she could no longer see. The man hit her atop the head. It hurt.
I'm passing out.
With that Volière fell to the floor.
YOU ARE READING
Note To Self
Short Story(OLD) Note To Self: I've been trapped in a basement for 2 hours now. My captor threw this sharpie at me and told me it's for my boredom. I think I might be here for awhile. Note; don't die. Note To Self: No one else is in this basement but it feels...
