[2] First Day

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BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! my phone alarm started blasting; it must be six o'clock. I hopped up, ready to start my day. I knew I couldn't be late because that would cost me my job. The tone of Mr. Thomas's voice when saying this told me he meant it. I knew what I was going to wear today — prepared myself the night before. I laid out a denim shirt, slightly ripped denim jeans, and nude pumps. I knew my weight caught people's attention. So, I knew I always had to dress to impress.

Soon as I turned 16 and was able to work, that's where most of my money went towards. My parents provided me with the basics like food, water, and shelter. I had to make the rest happen on my own. Once I was able to provide for myself. My parents started taking my money and drinking it up. I always made sure I hid some so that I could buy clothes and other things I needed. Once I started doing that, the bullying at my school died down. I was now just known as the fat girl and not the broke bummy fat girl.

I decided to hop in the shower before getting dressed. I needed this; the water felt so good, but I knew I couldn't stay long because I didn't want to be late. I hopped out and started to lotion up with cocoa butter. Being big came with stretch marks, but not me, I always lotioned up my body. I threw my clothes on, put some studs in my ears, and sprayed some perfume. I wrapped my hair last night, so there wasn't much I had to do in that department besides take this bonnet off and brush it. I had beautiful thick long hair, and yes, its all mine. I was ready; I grabbed my purse, throwing my heels inside and out the door I went. My bunny slides would have to due until I get to the office.

"Hey Autumn, Autumn, girl, I know you hear me calling you !" My landlord screamed I've been trying to dodge his ass for the past couple of days. I paid my rent, not all, but that's all the money I had left in my savings. That's why this job was super crucial for me to get and hold on too.

"Mr. Smith, its gonna take me some time to get the money, but trust and know I will," I said, turning around trying to plead to him. He was a short, heavyset, bald, black man with a mouth full of gold. How his country butt became the property manager, I would never know. But, this was the hood. It wasn't like you needed a master to get it.

"I don't understand you, young kids, nowadays. Priorities sweetheart, stop spending your money on them weaves, clothes, cars, and new phones. You are not a child anymore, and you need to grow up." I rolled my eyes. He knows nothing about me, and I wasn't going to stand here to tell him either. The situation I'm in now was based on me finally deciding I had enough of getting my ass kicked. I picked up and left with the little I had to my name. All those fancy things Mr. Smith was talking about were things I didn't possess. No weave over here playa. All this was all me. I can't even remember the last time I went to a hair salon. Yes, the cloths could fool you, but this was stuff I've had for years. I keep up with my things. My car was no 2020 but rather a red 1996 Honda Civic and my phone, flips. This man doesn't know anything I've been through or am dealing with and still trying to learn to heal from.

"Right, ill get you your money." I rolled my eyes and turned back, heading towards my car.

"You better." He yelled and started mumbling stuff under his breath.

~

I only had ten minutes until the clock strikes eight. I knew the people in the office were looking at me like I was crazy because I was running, but I didn't care.

"Rachel, where is my cubicle?" she looks up at me with a stank face.

"Rachel, where is my cubicle?" she looks up at me with a stank face

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