Isana lives a pretty hum drum life, working the nine to five grind, paying her bills and student loans.
No family or friends to connect with.
But that hum drum is soon turns upside down as she becomes a witness to a drug deal gone wrong between tw...
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Hello there it's me the supposed author of this story, I'm back from the dead with another chapter I hope you enjoy! See you at the end! —Alex. *** "Order up!"
I rush over taking the two plates and head to the table I had been assigned, giving the customers their food with a smile, just like we'd been trained to do. The patrons thank me as I ask them if they need anything else before I depart from the table. Taking a moment to go to the back to take another pain pill, making sure that I drank enough water as well. The flushed feeling over taking my body, I try and rub some of my tension out of my neck.
I hated feeling like this.
"Feeling alright, Isana?"
I nod giving my co-worker a smile. "I'm fine... thanks for asking."
"You have a visitor?" She gives a sympathetic look.
I nod, chuckling a bit.
She then continues to grab a cigarette out of her locker heading out the back doors. With a sigh I exit the breakroom, unlike her I wasn't on an official break and there are customers that still need to be served.
Falling back into the rhythm of my daily life was something that was both easy and unsettling, the couple of weeks I'd been gone had shown in the dust covered state of my small apartment, my allergies had ended up kicking up a fit almost immediately the second that I set foot into the room. Cleaning was one of the first things that I'd done, only second to getting rid of the phone that I'd been given in place of a new one.
It wasn't anything that broke the bank, but it'd do the job.
It was also weird being an observer having been on the other side, even though I'd gotten just a glimpse of what went on behind the vail of violence that cloaked the city even on the brightest of days.
With the knowledge came an increased sense of awareness that I'd chosen to ignore before. That like most of the population had chosen to blindly see.
Or not see.
Suddenly regular dealings weren't just regular dealings, everything had an undercurrent of something else. There is just another layer of control, the family owned businesses were indeed family owned.
It had me questioning my own place of work, just how deep did the vines of all of the organization run. It had also occurred that the police maybe had no idea how deep the corruption actually lied. Or maybe it they exactly knew and the darkness is something that is vital to the functioning of the city, maybe that is just the reality.
