Shifting Again

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The hairs on my arms stood up, even though I had been in the little holding cell for close to an hour and a half, I still hadn't adapted to the temperature. The word 'livid' wasn't even close to summing up the amount of anger I was feeling. Furious? Enraged? All that mattered was that I was feeling it, and it wasn't letting up no matter what. For the first time in a long time, I also felt a deep fear and dread. And I'd promised myself I wouldn't ever feel that way again. Although, this time was a lot different than that last time.

Around me, in the cell, were junkies who I couldn't tell if they were alive or dead, and a couple of other whores who didn't look in my direction. While waiting, I tried to figure out what the fuck happened that lead to me getting caught -- or, rather, the man getting caught with me. I figured his jealous, low-libido wife was stalking him or something. Not like it mattered, I wouldn't be able to do anything about it anyway.

Finally, someone came over to the door and put the key into the hole, calling out, "Miss Gomez, come with me."

I looked up to see an older redheaded woman, her eyes kind and her face familiar. For the life of me, I could not place her, no matter how hard I tried. I got up from my seat on the hard concrete bench and left through the barred door that was held open for me. The woman led me to an empty questioning room and sat me down, all as I racked my brain still to try and identify her.

"How are you doing, Shira?" she asked, sitting across from me at the table. I looked at her little metal name badge and paused before opening my mouth to answer.

"I- uh, I'm okay..." I said quietly. It was coming back in hazy half-memories, the kind that had no sound and looked like part of a dream. My memory was suffering immensely in high school, and continued until I was about a year out from having left. I guess there were still some things I needed to work on getting back. "Mrs. Coleman, sorry, I didn't recognize you."

She smiled the same smile I would see when being picked up from school, though she looked so much older. My mom's best friend. Well, until her addictions got the better of her. "Same here. How's your mom doing?"

"Oh, I don't really ever go see her. You should ask Nina that if you ever run into her."

"I get it. I heard Nina's pregnant, or did she have the baby yet?"

"Halfway there," I fake-smiled, keeping my feelings about the pregnancy to myself.

Mrs. Coleman 'aww'ed, then took out a paper from the folder she had on the table. "So, listen, honey, I don't wanna keep you in here too long. But I gotta ask you, why were you doin' this?"

Looking off to the side, I inhaled, putting on a subtly despondent expression. "It's been really hard... I don't know, I just-" breathing in deeply for effect. Sighing soundlessly. "All the stress from Auntie and the kids and now there's gonna be a new addition. It's a lot. It's really hard."

"I understand, baby, but you know you're better than this," she cooed, placing a hand on mine. "Your mother really loved y'all, and it's a shame she got to the point she was at. But Shira, you can't let it ruin your life. It's not your fault. You got so much potential, you jus' don't realize it."

Crocodile tears dripped slowly from the corners of my eyes. I looked back at her and wiped one with my free hand. "I guess. Anyway, uh, I just felt like this would be the easiest option. Job market's pretty shit without a degree."

"I know. But listen, I got a list of options for you, f'you ever wanna take 'em. I'mma let you off the hook, but I really want you to look at these," she said, sliding the paper closer to me and letting go of my hand. I took the paper off of the table and studied it, overwhelmed by the amount of addresses and phone numbers and words I didn't know the meanings of.

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