I opened the door and walked into the house. I placed down my bag and walked into the kitchen. I saw my mom standing there drinking some tea. I was anxious to tell her I got fired, not gonna lie, especially since my last job.
You see, I had a job before the restaraunt. It was at a little music store down in a small street in London. I loved it there. I got to listen to cool music all day and be in a place that I loved. I love to sing and dance, so I was comfortable in the music store, and I just joked around with my other employee, Lexi all day. It was one job that I actually liked.
That was until I got fired due to showing up at work late twice. Yeah, I know, I should've been up in time, I know that, but Lexi was late all the time. I was late by about 5 minutes. She'd be late by about an hour, but he never said anything to her. So when he told me I lost my job, I bought that up. The fact that she was never fired for turning up late. I got pissed off and walked out anyway, cause I'd already lost my job. My mom warned me that I needed to improve my attitude and get a job to pay rent, or else she was kicking me out.
"How come you're back early,Dee?" Dee was my moms nickname for me. My dad used to called me Lilah before he passed away. Nobody has called me it since. It bought back too much pain of his passing, too many memories. I stopped thinking about it before tears escaped my eyes.
"Erm...I kind of lost my job..." I looked down as I told her, trailing off at the end of the sentence. I looked back, studying her face. Anger, annoyance, disbelief and realisation flashed past her eyes at the same time before she spoke.
"Again?Delilah-Mae, I told you what would happen if you lost your job again! I can't keep you for free! All you bring me is trouble!" She ran her hands through her hair after placing down her cup on the surface. I knew she'd be angry with me, but before I could even explain to her, she said something to me.
"You need to go,now." I looked at her in shock. She was actually going to kick me out over a shitty job? I couldn't believe it. I thought parents were supposed to stick witht their children through anything? I could get a new job, I had before. For fuck sake, it wasn't even my fault!
"Mom let me explain! I didn't even do anything! Where am I supposed to go?" I threw questions at her as I followed her into the living room. She walked over to the door and looked out to the garden, not being able to face me.
"It never is your fault is it!" She turned to me as her voice level raised. "Just go. I don't know where but you can't stay here. I've had enough." I looked at her, shaking my head. I couldn't understand it. Instead of begging for forgiveness, I turned and ran up the stairs. I wished dad was here. He would reason with her, make her understand.
I grabbed my duffle back and chucked in some undies, bras, pajamas, clothes. I chucked in my laptop too and my different chargers for my phone and other devices. I grabbed my guitar from the stand, shoving it in its case. I didn't have many clothes though, so I could fit the majority of them in the duffle bag, squeezing some into my backpack. I put my coat on, storming down the stairs. I didn't even look back. I yanked open the door, walking out on to my path. As I slammed it behind me, the realisation hit me. I had nowhere to go. I called someone I knew I could rely on for a few days or nights.
"Shakela? Yeah,it's Del here. Could I stay with you for a few days?" I chewed my bottom lip waiting for her response. Shakela had been my bestfriend since I was a few years through High School. She had perfect fashion sense, and was truly beautiful. I knew if someone could help me, it'd be her.
"Yeah,sure. What happened?" Her concern made me smile. It was nice to know I had someone who stood by me and who I could speak to. I told her I'd explain when I got there, and started the 5 minute or so walk to her house, carrying my bag and guitar. My backpack stayed put, being supported by my shoulders. It was around 8pm when I was walking, and the breeze was picking up abit. My text tone went off and I pulled out my phone. I unlocked my phone to see a text from a number I hadn't saved. I knew it was the beautiful curls from earlier today as I read the text.
I'm taking you out tomorrow. Wear something nice. Goodnight, Lilah.x
He used my dads nickname. Nobody has called me that in so long. It usually bought back painful memories, but for some reason, this was different. I didn't feel upset. It felt like it was somebody elses turn to continue the nickname. Harry.
