Blood Bandits

1.

July 23, 2020.

New York City.

Amina Lafayette

We all sat at the long black sleek table, staring at him. Our boss. Mr. Daily. Daily Times is what we call him. He hates it. His short stance allowed him to reach no higher than the middle of the huge glass row of windows behind him. But his attitude was as tall as the height that he never reached. It was the middle of the day and it was rainy. It was Friday and all of us were worn out from trying to find a story that would meet the requirements for the New York Daily times. Mr. Daily paced around all of the large chairs with his hands wrapped around his back.

"It's been two weeks. Two. And none of you have come up with anything that was worth even reading to five year old much less to the board. The whole city of New York depends on us to cover stories that allow them to understand and inform them of what's going on in their own city. And we can't even deliver that. If you all can't do any better than this, then I can call in another team and see what they have. Are we clear?" He asked, his facing holding a frown of disappointment.

Every quickly nodded and began chucking out ideas that were still no good. The look on his face was one of defeat. He knew we had lost the game. The ideas they were giving, were ones that were done before and just flat out weak. They wouldn't gain anyones attention. I sighed because I knew my ideas wouldn't be any better so I just sat there and decided to keep them to myself.

"Stop! All of you just stop and go home. It's clear that we all need a good nights rest and we can start fresh Monday. You are dismissed." He sighed, frustrated.

The commotion in the room ceased and everyone began gathering their belongings and papers, rushing out of the room. I sat there and typed on my lap top but came up empty handed. I sighed and shook my head. This was going to be harder than I thought. All of the other New York News Paper stations had covered almost everything and we were struggling for at least a crumb of a lead to go on. But there was nothing. Not one single thing that was left for us. I closed my laptop and tucked it into my bag.

"You disappointed me these last few weeks Amina."

I jumped at the voice that came from across the room. Looking up, I seen Mr. Daily leaning across the table, staring at me.

"Mr. Daily. I'm sorry. I haven't been myself lately. I-"

"I know. Your father's accident was tragic. I completely understand that. Trust me I do. I've lost loved ones as well Amina but I need you here as well. It's been six months. You are one of my best workers and I need you on this. You're not giving me your best and when I gave you this job five years ago, we made a deal. You promised me that you give me your best and I promised I you would always have a job here at the New York Daily Times. It's been two weeks Amina. I need something in three weeks or I'm going to have to let you go." He whispered the last part.

Stopping all of my movements, I looked to him but he wasn't looking at me. He was staring down at the table. His hands laid flat on the table with his fingers spread. The tip of his tie was dangling at the table top.

"You're going to fire me?" I asked in disbelief.

He paused before answering. "I don't want to but we had a deal Amina. But you still have three weeks to get me something. I believe in you. But that's your boss talking. As your friend, Amina I know you can do this. Just get your head in the game okay? You got this. Anything that you need I'm at your disposal."

I tucked my jaw in my cheek and nodded. Standing up, I grabbed my bags and shot a small smile at Mr. Daily. "I'll see you Monday."

He smiled tightly, knowing what he'd said had got to me but I turned to leave the room, putting my bag over my shoulder.