Searching for love

1

I pulled my blanket over my head to block out the bright rays of the sunlight that streaked through my window. I groaned loudly as the light only grew and was accompanied by the deafening sounds of the usual morning buzz of cars, people, and birds. Halfheartedly I made my way out of my bed, dragging my sheets with me. The warmth of the sheets was taken away from me as I made my way to the bathroom, hesitantly I dropped my sheet and jumped into the shower, the water instantly waking me up from my slumber. I quickly wrapped a towel around and brushed my teeth in the now steamy bathroom. I wiped off the steam from the mirror as I got ready for another day at work. Another monotonous day of sitting at my desk answering calls and writing reports only to come home have dinner and pass out and wake up to another day. My life had sadly become my worst nightmare. I had promised myself that I would live a more fulfilling and exciting life than my mother. I grew up in a single-parent household with my mother who worked as a secretary at a law firm. She would go to work, come home have dinner and go to bed and wake up the next day to do the exact same thing. After observing her life for years I pledged to myself that I would never let that happen to me, but here I am at twenty-five years old working as a secretary at a law firm, living the same life as my mother, well except for the fact that I don't have a kid. I thank God for that every day. That is a responsibility I don't want on my hands. As it is it's almost an impossible task for me to take care of myself, I don't have it in me to raise a kid.

I sighed deeply as I ran my fingers through my straight blonde hair. I impatiently worked through the knots in my long hair and gave up halfway, opting to put my hair in a bun instead. I hurriedly put on some mascara and lip gloss before rushing to put on my daily outfit which consisted of black trousers and a long white-sleeved top. I grabbed my Louis Vuitton bag which was slowly falling apart from years of use and wore my Chanel black pumps which were a gift from my mother and rushed out of my apartment, securely locking the door behind me. My heels clanked loudly against the marble floors as I made my way to the elevator. I stepped into the glass elevator and watched the levels slowly light up as I made my way down to the ground floor from the 30th floor. I guess you could say I was rich as well as an addiction to living in luxury. My mother had passed away when I first started working and she had saved a lot of money which I inherited as well as hefty life insurance. I also made quite a bit of money myself from working in one of the top law firms of the nation. Overall, I was living by myself and didn't spend money on anything other than my basic needs so I splurged when it came to buying a home. If only my life had something going for it other than working it would be ideal.

I sat in the backseat of the taxi and skimmed through the various reports I would have to file upon my arrival to work. I barely glanced at the large crowds that filled the city. Large skyscrapers loomed high and tall, each grander than the last. The sound of the traffic was muted by the melodious voice of Kevin Parker. By the time I reached the office, I had already finished arranging all my paperwork and was focused on the task at hand. I stepped out of the taxi and breezed past the people rushing in and out of the tall and prestigious building I worked at. I smiled and greeted people as I made my way to the top floor. I was the secretary of the owner of the firm, a position I had acquired only after working for a year. Apparently I was efficient and focused and was the best secretary that Mr. Hughes could hope for. At Least that's what he told me when I received the promotion. I had previously been a secretary for one of the lower-ranking lawyers but my work style had reached the ears of Mr.Hughes and he wanted me for himself. He was an easy man to work for and did not demand much of me. He was a tall, thin, and graying man of age 60. Since I didn't have much of a life other than working I was always on top of things and he regularly rewarded me with bonuses and time off which I did not really need but appreciated nonetheless.

I slowly nibbled on the sandwich I had ordered from my favorite cafe. Filled with onions, tomatoes, and cheese it was my go-to lunch. However, I seemed to have lost my interest and desire for them as time went by. It seemed that I was getting more caught up in my monotonous schedule than I realized. I threw my sandwich in the trash and made my way to the park for a chance of scenery. I still had a good 40 minutes of my lunch break left. I sighed heavily as I watched the happy couples snuggling on the bench and kids screaming and playing loudly. Their faces were lit up in joy and bliss. Was I really the only one that lacked the motivation and joy to keep going? Was I seriously the only one not satisfied with my life? Obviously, that couldn't be true but it seemed to be right now. If only something interesting actually happened for once and with those thoughts spiraling in my head I sat down on a bench and let my eyes close.

My eyes flew open as my body blossomed in pain. I sucked in a deep breath at the cold I felt that was accompanied by bouts of pain that felt like knives being stabbed repeatedly in my body. I shook wildly as tears flowed through my face. I bit my lips in agony form withholding the pain I was in, drawing blood. My vision grew blurry and my breathing haggard as I fell from the bench onto the cool grass beneath. I could hear the shouts and screams of people approaching me, their voices filled with panic and worry. I struggled to keep my eyes open and soon enough succumbed to the pain. The only thing on my mind was to get away from the pain. Was this really the end of me?