Between Footsteps| p.jm

THREE| .--. . .- -. ..- - ...

You collapsed with a relieved sigh as you were granted the ability to sit down for a short break. Your feet were aching and your whole body felt strained from working for hours on end.  

The food truck was hot and bustling; the seemingly endless amount of guests requesting food not leaving as work seemed to never end. You watched the other older and stronger men you worked with continue to serve food with wide eyes as they barked orders at each other and didn't think once about taking a break themselves. 

The first two days had been rough. The other workers; 25, 19, and 52 had disliked your presence immensely and mistreated you accordingly by shoving you about and giving difficult orders and the worst jobs. You had taken it all as best as you could, but during a particularly busy hour you had been told to take out the trash and had done so; bursting into tears however when the bag had been too heavy and you had dropped it all over the floor outside.

At first, 19 had angrily stomped outside upon hearing the crash to see what had happened in order to scold you, but upon seeing your broken form and dirty appearance, he finally felt sympathy. You were after all, just a young girl. Although unsure of your age, you couldn't be older than 25. It was clear that the work you were forced into wasn't one your body could manage as well as the others, so he helped you clean up the mess.

You were confused and watched him with wide teary eyes, sniffing a bit.

"Don't cry lass," He urged you with a sigh, "We're sorry for being so hard on you. It's just that we were hoping for someone who could help us out more... I suppose this isn't the right work for a pretty young lady though to begin with. I'll talk to the others and we'll have you properly trained and not push you so hard."

You felt a weight lift from your shoulders at the prospect and smiled at the old man who had finally shown you kindness. His eyes crinkled at the sides as he smiled back. And that was the beginning of your friendship with the older men you shared work with. They even gifted you boots so that you didn't have to work barefoot, which had been a majority of the struggle to begin with. 

It was still hard, but slowly you were starting to get the hang of it and you found you wanted to work hard. To help them out. You wanted to prove you were useful, regardless of what your apparent records had told Chloe and the position you had been given. You worked so much that you hadn't even seen that much of the Between even after four apparent 'days', (It was always night so you had to assume the ringing of the clock tower was the indication of a new day). 

What you had seen however wasn't pretty.

You remembered Chloe assuring you that the living conditions weren't that bad as a bronze worker and that you would be just fine. Upon first entering your new room, you were taken a back. 

Was it fair to even call it a room? It was as big as a closet and sported only a mockery of a bed and a falling apart bathroom. You had to cautiously lay down on the bed in fear of breaking it and wondered if bugs were littered in the sheets. The smell wasn't good either, and the bathroom showed clear signs of mold scattered against the walls.

It did feel nice to have a shower though. You took one every morning and every night; also washing your only pair of clothes and letting them dry while you stood under the refreshing water. 

All you had were your cat pajamas and you only seemed to own a single hair brush and a toothbrush set, so although your day to day appearance was better than your first day, you knew you didn't look very good. It couldn't be helped though, and eventually you figured maybe it didn't matter. Why would a food worker need to look good? You got dirty all day anyway.

So, after four days, maybe you were finally getting used to this rough lifestyle. Sure you found it hard to look at the guest and higher ranking hotel buildings knowing how much better they were than yours, but you decided that in death, you would have a positive attitude.