He'll have to break all the rules to keep her, but first she has to break just one and let him in...
It's taken four years, but Anna Fray has finally put the past behind her. Mostly. She fills her days working in a bar and her nights watching bad ro...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Four years ago, I died.
At just sixteen, I said goodbye to the world as I knew it, and I watched as my hopes and dreams withered away. Whoever I was before was snuffed out. Annabelle Fray no longer existed.
Metaphorically speaking.
In the literal sense, I'm still alive. My heart still beats, and my blood still flows, but who I am, isn't the same. There might be some residue left behind, an imprint of the naïve girl I once was, but if it's there it's buried deep below the surface. Hidden under layers of kohl eyeliner and disenchantment.
Still, that day I learnt that all was not lost. Because once I'd heard those three little words, and my soul flatlined in front of the person I trusted the most, I realised I had this rare opportunity to rebuild. My life, my ambitions, my self. It was like reincarnation but without the death. And eventually, I learnt to look past the soul destroying, gut wrenching, agony of it all, and I discovered it really was quite refreshing. Like a perfect glass of chilled white wine in the burning depths of hell. How I chose to view it was just a matter of perspective. My mindset.
This thought rattled through my head as I watched the prematurely balding man scurry out the door. A wry smile crept onto my face and my body sang with cruel satisfaction. He would think twice in future before assuming his waitress was neither educated nor mouthy enough to call him on it.
"Sometimes you have to be nice to people, Anna," Kelly said with a disapproving stare as she filled the coffee machine with fresh beans. I inhaled deeply at the smell like an addict seeking my next fix.
The ring of the bell sounded as the door shut behind the man. I watched him like a cat watches a mouse as he hurried up the street. Fleeing with his tail between his legs.
"Well sometimes people are dicks. Do I still have to be nice to them then?" I asked, lounging against the counter and closing the cash register beside me.
"If they're paying customers, then yes," Kelly huffed, but I could hear the laughter in her voice. She liked to pretend she was all sweetness and light, but I knew as well as her that she had a dark side. She just didn't let it out to play as often as I did.
"So, if Hitler walked in that door," I postulated as I turned, "or Mussolini. Or that chirpy weather guy from the nightly news. You'd still want me to be nice to them?"
Before Kelly could answer, Emma swept through our conversation, depositing dirty glasses at the sink and pinching one of the complimentary biscotti in the process.
"How is Barry the weather boy in the same league as Hitler? He's so nice!" she said through a mouthful of biscuit, busying herself gathering extra sugars to fill the caddys.
"He's too nice-" I stressed, hiding my jealousy as Emma tossed glorious blonde hair over her shoulder. "-Too nice is just as bad as not nice at all."
