Play the Leader

always wanting more

Life is full of routine, sometimes comforting, sometimes boring.

The routine of my life is neither comforting nor boring. It just is. I just am. I've been existing like this for a few years now. Not moving forward or backward, just the same.

Everything's the same.

My life is more or less the same thing everyday. I wake up. Everyone does... unless they don't... That's dark... Sometimes my mind goes to dark places when I'm alone... I hate being alone.

My grandma abandoned me out of desperation, my parents abandoned me out of choice, and Minerva...that's complicated.

For now I need to get out of bed and get ready for work. I throw the blankets off myself, skin pimpling as the cold air hits my warm body. My blankets are heavy, I find the weight of them helps me relax, without them I fear I would never fall asleep at all. Sometimes I pretend it's not just a blanket, but a presence, a being, someone to keep me company and help me stay warm. I know that makes me sound pathetic.

I leave my bedroom and go to my small kitchen. Living alone isn't ideal, but it's fine. You get used to the quiet after a while. I rummage through my cabinets looking for something to eat, finding a box of cheerios, but I hate cheerios, I only bought them for Minerva. She likes to eat them when she stays over. I bypass the cheerios and grab a bag of half eaten chips.

Leaning against the counter I pop them into my mouth one after one, crunching them up and swallowing them down until they're gone. Not the healthiest breakfast but who am I trying to impress?

One benefit of living alone is that I can walk around in next to nothing. I find a pair of gym shorts that I had been wearing last night before bed, lying on the couch and I pull them on. I run my fingers through my blonde hair and I don't bother changing out of my tank top but I grab a coat to keep the chill out until I get to work and can put on my coveralls.

I work in a garage at a car dealership. The floors are shiny and clean. Almost like being in a hospital. It doesn't feel like working at a garage at all. I always wanted to work in one of those places on the side of the road that looks run down. Just a couple of people repairing cars for money, using their free time to fix up some busted old hot rod. Take something most people think is useless and turn it into something worthwhile again.

But no...I need insurance and a steady paycheck. So I compromised my dream.

I step into my coveralls as soon as I get to work. I pull it all the way up and stick my arms into the sleeves, zipping it about halfway. I'm always cold when I first get to work, but I overheat as the day goes on and usually tie the arms off around my waist by lunch.

The day goes by as expected. Expensive cars roll in, the owners throw me their keys and look at my oil stained pants with a sneer like I'm below them. They need me. They use me. I offer a service they can't provide for themselves, they pay their money and they're gone. All part of the job. They don't appreciate the art of it. The beauty of taking something broken and making it work again.

Work is a nice reprieve from my loneliness, but it only lasts as long as my shift does. While I get along with the other mechanics, they have their own friends, their own families outside of the garage and I'm not part of that.

I say my goodbyes to my coworkers. I throw my dirty coveralls in the clothes bin in the locker room and then I leave, stopping by to pick up fast food on the way home. I always get chicken nuggets on my way home from work on Fridays. My reward to myself for making it through another week. Something to break up the monotony of every other weekday.

When I arrive home I prop my legs up on the coffee table as I eat. I watch cartoons because no one's here to make fun of me for it. It's not my fault that they make such good cartoons nowadays. I would have killed for cartoons like this when I was young. I fall asleep on the sofa as I often do on the weekend.

A knock on the door wakes me up. It surprises me but I'm not surprised. I hate how excited I feel when I hear that knock. Like pavlov's dog, I'm drooling at the mere idea of human intimacy and it disgusts me. I jump from the couch to get the door, sick at my own excitement.

"Violet!" Minerva exclaims, happy to see me, as she always is when she wants something from me. Minerva knows she's using me. I know that Minerva's using me and yet I keep allowing it to happen.

"Hey Minnie." I greet as I shut the door behind her, when I turn around her shirt's already on the floor and she's kissing me. Before I can even kiss her back she's moved down to my neck and she's pulling at my shirt.

I shake any thoughts of being used from my head and I allow myself to succumb to the heat coursing through my veins, "Bedroom?" Minerva asks and I grant permission by leading the way. I fall into her arms on my mattress and if only for a moment I relish in not being alone.

The feeling doesn't last though. The next morning she sits on my couch eating cereal. I grab an orange and peel it as I sit next to her, turning the TV onto a cartoon channel.

"Scoot over, you're too close." She says to me, so I scoot, losing the human contact that I continue to crave.

"Are you working today?" Minerva asks me. I've been at this job for years now, my schedule has never changed and she still has to ask if I work on Saturday. If she cared about me, she would've taken the time to remember something as simple as that.

I want to tell her what I'm thinking but I only say, "Yes."

"Too bad, I wanted to go to the movies and I hate going alone. I'll just ask Sophie or someone to go with me." Minerva picks up the remote and switches it off the cartoons I turned on just a second ago, I don't argue.

"I get off at five, if you can wait until after then, I'll go with you." I speak up, not wanting to spend another night alone on my couch.

"No, I wanted to go earlier, it's fine, don't worry about it." Minerva stands and puts her empty bowl in the sink. No 'thank you Violet for always having my favorite cereal' or even a 'thanks for the sex' as she starts slipping her shoes on, all she says is, "I'll see you around." I wave goodbye but she doesn't look at me as she slips out.

She got what she wanted and she left me alone, just like everyone else.