I hate typing on car rides. Does anyone else hit the wrong keys as they go over bumps? 😅 ENJOY LOVELIES~!! ❤️
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*Molly's POV*
I get that all too familiar feeling in my gut. Dread and fear knotted up, strangling me from the inside-out. Like butterflies, only evil- a never ending rollercoaster drop that plummets to the pits of hell.
I keep forgetting to breathe, and I'm trembling badly, making my movements awkward and clumsy. I take my medicine, but I know it won't do anything but take the edge off tonight.
To try and hold on to what awareness of the present I have, I start washing dishes. My movements are robotic and stiff, as my muscles have all tensed up, but I manage to work to a steady, calming rhythm. Rinse, scrub, turn, dry...
Once I run out of dishes, I work on sorting and folding clothes neatly, carefully tucking the garments into boxes. Then, I move onto nicknacks- wiping away dust and sorting those into boxes as well.
I'm so tired, but I can't calm down enough to sleep, so I keep working and by the time the sun starts rising, my messy apartment is a spotless room with nothing more to see than some boxes and a futon.
I grab a banana out of my fruit bowl and pick it apart, breaking the fruit into 3 triangle shapes before nibbling at it.
I'm exhausted, and already feeling my defeatist attitude set in. I'm going to ask my boss for my paycheck today, and I'm terrified of being turned down, or even fired.
The clock on my wall lazily ticks, the hand dragging each second out, yet 3:00 comes too soon. I mechanically dress myself, take my medicine, and pop a mint in my mouth, nervously clicking it against my teeth.
By 3:47 I'm closing the door to my home. I take a good look at it and tear up a bit. It might have been small and crumby, but it was mine. I take one more deep breath, and lock up.
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"I'm sorry, but it's not possible," my manager gives me a concerned look. "Can't you make it possible?" I feel myself growing hysterical. "It's not in my control," my manager replies, and I feel something inside me snap.
"Please!" I beg, "You don't understand, if you can't make it happen, I won't be going home tonight!"
I can feel the eyes of patrons on me, but I'm too desperate to be embarrassed by the scene I'm making.
My manager speaks this time with a very soothing voice, "Do you have any relatives you can stay with?" I almost stagger from the impact of memories those words bring.
I have relatives, but I've been disowned. I'm not even welcome as visitor anymore. "Or a friend?" Yet another blow, I never really got the chance to make friends as a child.
I feel a drop of water hit my arm, and suddenly realize I'm crying.
"N-no-" I start to say, but I feel a hand on my shoulder and I'm cut off by a strong, sure voice.
"She'll stay with me."
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Thank you for reading!!!!
☆〜（ゝ。∂）❤️