Death Beckons Me

Chapter 1

I sat in the office chair as quiet tears streamed down my face once again. How many times had I done this? Three, Five, Eight? Who knows, I stopped counting long ago. For me it was just another day at Marco's. A lovely oasis where patrons could come and listen to low soothing music while enjoying a nice clean meal off our newly remodeled menu. At least that's what corporate thinks. To me, it's just a place for people who don't have offices to come and use the free wifi, complain about the temperature of the cafe and gossip about the workers all while sipping on a nice cup of tea or small coffee. What a wonderful oasis.

A knock on the door brought me back from the dark place in my head. I had a moment to quickly wipe my face before the office door opened and Joanie poked her head inside. She took one look at my red watery eyes and knew that I had been crying again. Joanie walked into the office and closed the door quietly behind her. Looking over at Joanie I couldn't help but admire her beauty. Her long brown hair was twisted into a braid that stopped just before her waist. Her five-foot six-inch figure was made up of long slender legs and a short waist. Her Asian heritage dominated her features so much so that you couldn't tell she was Peruvian as well by looking at her.

Brushing her bangs to the side Joanie leaned against the office door and asked, "what's wrong"?Two little words were all it took for the flood gates to open up again. The problem with asking someone that question is that you have to be ready to hear the response. Lucky for me Joanie was sincere and genuinely cared about my well being. Patting my nose with my now soiled tissue I cleared my throat and tried giving a response.

 "I don't know I'm just really depressed and I don't want to be here". 

"No one wants to be here this place sucks" came the snarky reply. 

I snorted as a small smile crept onto my face. This is why Joanie and I got along so well. We always know what to say to one another to help lift each other's spirit. Or maybe it is because we are both miserable losers who hate our lives. You know what they say, misery loves company. Either way, our friendship works.

Deciding that I had enough of Marco's and people for the day I picked up my purse and chicken caesar salad with olives, my fave and turned towards the door.  "I'm heading out okay, talk to you later." Walking over to give me a tight hug Joanie murmured "You know I'm here for you right? Call me if you need anything." Nodding my head I left the office and headed out to my car.

The drive home was always a form of therapy for me. Sitting in the car, blasting music while allowing my brain to wander. Occasionally I would look out the window at the big traditional-style houses with beautifully manicured lawns and litter-free sidewalks and dream about a life I'd never have. All to quickly the exit leading me home came up and all the beautiful scenery was replaced with litter filled streets and worn down houses and apartment complexes. Pulling up to the three family home I currently stayed at, I scowled at the dirty blue shingles that covered the home, the overgrown grass the landlord has yet to cut, and scattered bits of trash scavenged from the trash bin the night before by stray cats that wander the streets.

 Opening the door to my apartment I was immediately greeted by the loud obnoxious yelling and foot-stomping by the lovely neighbors that occupied the second floor. Not bothering with the lights  I maneuvered my way to the kitchen and sat down to enjoy my chicken caesar salad with olives. This was my life: every day I would wake up, go to work for eight hours, drive home, eat, shower, sleep and repeat. My social life did not exist outside of work. Sure I had work friends as I call them and we would check up on each other occasionally but as far as leaving the house and going out to "hang out" that did not happen.

Cleaning up my mess I took a quick shower and went to bed. Closing my eyes I felt my self slowly drifting to sleep, and that's when it happened.