Well, that's just fucking fantastic. It's 5:30pm on a Friday, and instead of sailing into the weekend, I find myself emptying my desk. Only thirty minutes ago, I didn't have a care in the world. I've spent the last five years of my life at The Daily Craic – I report largely on violent crime and crimes against women more specifically. I've worked long hours, tackled sensitive topics, and even risked my safety to report these violent crimes nationwide. But within five short minutes, my boss Cathal ripped those five years right out from under my feet.
"The paper is just moving in a different direction Rossi, so we've decided to terminate your contract" Cathal said, very matter of fact. That's the thing about Cathal – he doesn't give a toss about my articles, or their content. Cathal wants celebrity gossip, the latest diet fads and sparkly stories about handsome businessmen falling in love with the waitress in his local bar and them waltzing up the aisle in some lavish castle. Me, however? I live in the real world. I want to write about real life and make an impact. People need to know how unsafe it can be to simply be female.
"Our readers find your stories... well, a little dreary" Cathal continues.
"Did you really just say dreary?" I interject, perhaps with a little more sass than appropriate for a meeting with my boss but seeing as this professional relationship has had its day, "Gosh Cathal, I'm sorry that the struggles of women is a little dull for your tastes. I suppose you'd prefer I wrote about puff ball skirts or the latest workout craze!"
"Calm down Rossi, it's not you. It's us. It's just not a good fit." Did he just hit me with that cliché?
"How much notice do I have?" I ask.
"Well, that's just it, we have no further use for your reporting so today is your last day. We've already assigned your space in the paper to Kara to expand her fashion column. The joys of free lancing...eh?"
My heart sinks. No notice. No savings. No plan b. Rent due at the end of month. I head back to my office feeling defeated, doing my best to keep it together, whilst my mind is running at 200mph. I pack my belongings into the box Cathal kindly handed me in my way out his door, and I head for home.
Like clockwork. 5:31pm. I am faced with the one mirror I can't avoid.
Mum: It's Ronan's birthday. Are you calling round after work? xox
After the day I've had, I can think of nothing worse than spending the evening with my mum's husband. I call him that, cause stepdad wouldn't be fitting for the relationship we have. Ronan has been in my life since I was sixteen, eighteen months after my dad passed away, and he has been an ever-present reminder of just how wonderful my dad was. Ronan is cold, didn't want children of his own and I was just the baggage that came along with Mum. I spent two years under Ronan's roof before making my escape to university, and I cannot end up back there.
R: Not tonight, Mum. Meeting some friends after work. Love you x
I hate lying to her but I'm not spending the rest of my evening being lectured by Ronan how all my life choices have brought me to my current predicament. Ronan never supported me pursuing a career in journalism, in fact he told me that I'd be better off taking a nursing degree cause at least there would be a stable job at the end of it – it didn't matter if it was a job that I hated. That was the difference between Ronan and my dad, my dad taught me to shoot for the moon, because I'd be sure to land amongst the stars. Ronan wanted to make me small, unhappy and easier to manipulate – something I've watched him successfully do to my mum these last eight years.
Mum: Okay sweetheart. What about Sunday? He'd love to see you! xox
R: I'm busy with my latest article, I'm sorry. I promise I'll visit soon! x
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Off The Grid
RomanceRossi Collins has worked hard all her life to escape a life she didn't sign up for, but finds herself in a position which could have her back under her stepdad's roof quicker than you can say 'the lights are out and away we go'. When the opportunity...
