Grown Ups and Misfits

1. Everything Is Gone

1. Everything Is Gone

 "I wear the robe like no one could."
                                   - Lorde

"'What are your main goals in life?'"  I bit down on my pen, heaving a sigh as I read the job application aloud. "Really though, what are my goals in life?"

 Pushing the papers to the farthest corner of my desk, I pulled my drawer open and dug through it quietly, not wanting to wake my parents up for the sixth time this week. They didn't understand why I didn't sleep, why I couldn't sleep. But it was alright. As long as I didn't get caught.

Relief washed over me once I spotted the label on top of the pink sheet of paper, that read 'Career and Financial Management' over the top. Scanning the document, I searched for the answers I had written down all those months ago. I couldn't remember if it had been the sheet we did in class, or the review sheet we didn't have to hand in.

Name: Katrina Abel

Life goals: forget everything.

Reasons you are responsible: I haven't stopped coming to school yet.

"Oh god." I muttered, slightly apprehensive to the thought of reading the rest of it all. With a shrug of the shoulders, I continued on.

What is your greatest accomplishment: I once watched tv on netflix for forty hours straight.

Why are you qualified for this job: To be honest I'm not qualified at all.

Why should we hire you: you shouldn't. jobs are for chumps. and people who know what they want.

Crumpling the paper in my fist, a small growl of aggravation escaped me.

Definitely the review sheet, I thought with a scoff.

"Shit," I muttered, trying to quietly look through the mountain of papers inside my desk. "Mom will kill me if I don't get a job soon."

I slammed the draw shut, giving up.

Whatever hope I had possessed three hours ago had completely diminished. I didn't want to be a cashier, or a waitress, a dishwasher – I really didn't want to do anything at all. In retrospect, I shouldn't have gotten any applications for jobs in the first place.

Scattered over the desk were my applications, all half-filled out and most definitely half-assed. I decided to leave them there. Mom would find them, think I was looking, and be satisfied. I could buy a few more weeks like that.

A piercing alarm ran through my room and I bolted upright, maneuvering around my small room and out the door.

"Not the security alarm again." I whined, while taking cautious steps down the short hall and into the kitchen, where the front door sat beside the fridge.

Edmund laid casually sprawled out in front of the cat flap, licking his paws all the while sending me a pompous cat-smile. I groaned.

"Are you kidding me?" I spoke to him, kicking my foot into the wall. I yelped as pain shot through it, hopping on one foot like an idiot as Edmund continued grooming himself.

"I'm talking to a cat. A cat." His ears perked up as I spoke once more, murky brown eyes staring up at me in curiosity. "I'm talking to a cat at god-knows-what in the morning."

Mumbling obscenities, I glanced over to the stove, swearing as I saw the time. Edmund followed me as I tip-toed back to my room and walked past, peeking into my parent's lair. Still fast asleep, their light snores made me wrinkle my nose in disgust.