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She always made sure to count her blessings. She had been angry at her new co worker, Beth, when she had ditched the usual clean up after closing time. Especially since it had been a particularly busy day. But she forced herself to look at the bright side as she wiped down dirty tables. It would take her longer, equaling more pay. And she wouldn't have to go home and see her mother any sooner than she had too.
Anastasia liked her job for the most part. Sure, it had its ups and downs, but every job had that. She got along great with her co workers, minus the new one. It was obvious Beth really didn't care about her job. She took the easy route on everything and always asked Anastasia to finish up her work. She realized she was probably feeding the problem by doing her work, but Ana was a pushover. She didn't like confrontation.
Her favorite co worker was Fiona. She was loud, free spirited. To put it lightly, she didn't give a fuck what anyone thought about her. Anastasia admired her for that. She worked everyday besides the weekends, usually coming in after school. At first, the work load had almost been too much for her, but really, the girl didn't have a choice whether she wanted to work or not. Anastasia was seventeen years old, and she was the one who payed the bills for the family.
Family being, just her and her mother, Helena. Her father had died three years ago of cancer, and just like every tragic tale, Helena spiraled down the trail of alcohol and drugs. So, to keep from losing their apartment, Ana started working. Yes, it was extremely difficult for such a frail girl, but Ana always counted her blessings. She reminded herself that she wasn't paying for utilities or repairs, and she always took the bus for transportation.
So, sure, she had it difficult, but she could have had it worse.
Helena never abused Ana, not physically, anyway. More so emotionally. She hardly ever talked to the girl. And when she did, it was always when she was drunk or high. Most of the time Ana saw her was when she was knocked out on the floor. Helena was a beautiful woman, well used to be. Her hair used to blonde and bouncy, now it was frail and dull. Her skin had been tanned by the sun, while now, it was pale and sickly.
Ana took after her father, Charlie. Her hair brown and curly, skin soft and bright. And she had a smile that lit up a room. She missed her dad, he was always good to her. He taught her all the important things a father should teach. Like how to bait a hook, throw a good punch and to not let boys boss her around.
School was school. Never boring but never entertaining. It was routine. She was one of those "seen and not heard" type students. She had some friends here and there, but no one she would really hang out with after school. Even if she wanted too she couldn't.
When she finally finished cleaning the diner, which was actually called The Diner, she clocked out and began making her way home. She always enjoyed the city of Los Angelas at night, the way the lights always shined and gleamed. She always made sure she went the safe way home, due to the several occasions where creepy men tried hooking up with her.
Fiona had even given her a taser to carry. It had terrified Ana at first, she could hardly even think about hurting another human being. Although, one night she had too. It was just like any old night, Ana was walking home from work and some guy had thought she was a hooker. He was persistent and wouldn't leave her alone, and she didn't hesitate to give him a hard right hook. It had mostly been adrenaline, and she had regretted it when her hand swelled up with purple bruises.
Helena had simply scoffed at the girls hand.
"Well, no wonder he thought you were a prostitute, Anastasia. Look how high your work uniform rides up!"
Helena never said much to Ana, but when she did, it was normally something along those lines. The girl hardened over the years towards her mother's heartless words, they were simply words now. Words without meaning.
When she got to her tall apartment building, she fumbled with her keys and unlocked the door that led to the lobby.
"Hey, Ruthie." Ana smiled as she grabbed the mail from her room numbers mailbox.
"Whatcha got for me today, dearie?" The old woman asked.
Ruthie had been living in apartment twelve for as long as her and Helena been there, and she always seemed to be in the lobby rather in her home, sitting in the same old leather chair that looked to be almost fifty years old. She was sweet and curious, and if you weren't careful, she would talk your ear off for hours. Ana always entertained the woman. Her memory wasn't that well, but she always seemed to remember the teenage girl.
Ana always made sure to bring her a piece of pie after work. Blueberry was always her favorite. Ana couldn't guess why, she hated blueberries. "Blueberry as always, Ruthie." Ana smiled as she handed her the box.
"Have you found your cat, yet?" She smirked.
"No, but surely he's around here somewhere." Ruthie held up her finger. "You tell me if you find him, Ana."
The girl laughed as she shifted her weight. "Yeah, you got it. Goodnight Ruthie!" She called over her shoulder, making her way up the stairs towards her room. Ana wasn't even sure if Ruthie had a cat, given she had been looking for it for three years.
The hallways reminded her of the ones in The Shining. They always unsettled her. They smelled of piss and vomit, the walls so thin you could her whenever someone was having sex. Hell, the building practically shook too. For four hounded dollars a month, it could have been taken care of a bit better.
But as always, count your blessings.
Apartment twenty-two was hers, right next to Pete's. He was nice, but the poor man was delusional. He always tried coming into their apartment rather than his. Opening the door, Ana stepped inside.
"Home sweet home." She muttered, flicking on the lights.
The sink was full of dishes, as always. And clothes littered the floor along with wrappers of food. Helena never cleaned. Ana always tried to in her spare time, but with work and school she could hardly keep up. Ana was a smart girl. She almost always got A's on her homework and she always took pride in that. Her life may have been shit, but at least she was smart.
In the living room laid Helena, passed out on the couch as always. The t.v had been set on some stupid game show. Ana rolled her eyes and turned the t.v off, taking the remote out of her mother's hands. She pulled the blanket off the nearby chair and draped it over her mother, pushing the hair off of her forehead.
The two had been extremely close before Charlie died. Inseparable, really. She missed those days terribly. But she often times out herself in her mother's shoes. Surely if she had lost the love of her life she would have been the exact same way. It didn't matter what Helena did, Ana would always love her mother.
She wondered if Helena even loved her anymore. If she did, she sure was good at hiding it. Nevertheless, she didn't dread on it. She turned off the lights to the apartment and made her way into her room, shutting the door quietly as to not wake up her mother. It wasn't much, and really wasn't even that decorated.
She had a few Queen and Nirvana posters that her dad had given her several years ago, and she had different copies of books and cd's. She hardly had time to listen to music, so when she did, it was always a special occasion.
Ana quickly changed her clothes and brushed her teeth, ignoring the line of coke that was on her bathroom sink. She learned to ignore these things long ago.
When she climbed into bed, she prayed to a God she wasn't sure she believed in. Her father always did, so she figured she should also. Although, it never really sunk into her like it had for him. Exhausted, sleep began to overcome her.
But when loud moans and the sound of a headboard banged against the wall, she knew it would be a long night.
