Don't hurt me, I'm a virgin.

Chapter 9

The dedication goes to ---->ninyatippett <-------- Because out of writer on Wattpad I find her stories compelling and truly breath-taking. They're so raw and outstanding, they leave you wanting what the characters she created have! She's an amazing writer! One that truly deserve all the recognition she can get.

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Chapter 9

I stand in front of a five star restaurant, contemplating whether to get in or keep staring. I'm sure the people who keep passing in and out of it are wondering what was wrong with me.

It's now evening and I've spent the whole morning roaming the town; asking managers, employers in mostly cafés or cashers just for a job and so far most have turned me down except for one café called Millie's. It had been past three in the afternoon when I had entered that café:

**

"Excuse me, who is your manager?" I ask one of the waitresses.

She looks at me up and down with an impassive expression on her face. She wrinkles her nose before popping the gum she is chewing.

"Who is asking?" Her tone detects annoyance but somewhere there's amusement playing in her tone.

I frown at her, "Me."

She burst out with laughter, "Oh really?"

"Yes, please I need a job".

"Don't we all, honey." She smirks.

I blink a few times at her and then she sighs and she motions to the back. She tells me to turn left and to keep on walking until I find a blue door.

And so here I am standing by the blue door, my nerves wrecking. I pray to divine providence that whomever is in that office will overlook the simple clothes I'm wearing and the tangled mess of my hair to at least hire me.

I knock a few times.

"Come on in." A muffled feminine voice speaks.

She is a woman?

When I enter, I'm momentarily dazed into shock at what I perceive in front of me.

Darkness.

It's everywhere. The walls are painted a dark grey colour, contrasting the white tiles of the floor. But everything else in the room screams gothic.

Why I immediately jump into this conclusion? Well because in the midst of this whole room sits a frail but dangerous looking woman who is petting her black haired Yorkshire terrier dog.

Like the whole room she wears a black plaited dress with all gothic accessories; on her face there are three piercings, one just over her eyebrow. There's a nose ring between her two nostrils and then another lip ring just on the corner of her bottom black coloured lip.

I then notice that on her neck, she has what appears to be a necklace which is coated in metal skulls.

What surprises me the most is the fact that she looks as if she is in her mid-twenties. I move closer to her black coloured desk.

"What do you want?" She asks in a tone of boredom, dragging her words.

"I'm Leyla and I'm here to ask if you have a space for one more waitress." I introduce myself.