It was raining heavily, nothing new in London. it deeply was a reflection on my usual mood. My cheap flat shoes from Primark touched the ground, I honestly couldn't bother that my feet would be soaked since I couldn't find any matched socks from my crap apartment.
"For fuck sake this isn't my day" I muttered staring at the double decked 388 bus that passed me. I was so close to the bus stop, merely 2 minutes away. Yet I still couldn't catch the bus or anything in my life anyway.
I am late to work. Again. Gina would be so pissed, my excuses are not working on her anymore. She used to be so sympathetic towards me about my situation but as the months went by she become numb to it and started to be impatient.
Speaking of the devil my phone started ringing from my jacket pocket. It could only be Gina, no one calls me besides her in the first place.
I hovered over the call button. my right hand started to shake. I knew I disappointed her and I didn't want to face it.
"Hello", I answered trying to make my voice steady as I took shelter at the bus stop area from the rain.
All I heard as a response was a long sigh. That spoke volumes on where the conversation is heading.
"Ciara darling, I gave you so many chances but", she paused trying to find words that won't hurt me. That was Gina. She was so kind, even my first impression of her was positive. She was a small polish lady with round freckled face, brown eyes and a gentle smile and loved tying her salt and pepper hair into a ponytail.
Gina continued, "it is not going to work. I have ignored a lot over the months because I thought you would change but clearly not. So I am sorry but I have to fire you."
There was long silence as I stared at the phone, I wasn't surprised. I knew this would be the end result. It always was. But somehow a malicious side of me kept wanting to take advantage of Gina's kindness. But everything comes to an end even her generosity.
"Ciara you there?" she asked.
"Yes I am. Thank you for everything Gina." I murmured. There was tears forming, I could feel it. I don't know why I am so upset. I expected this so why? I thought to myself as I listened to Gina.
"Don't worry I am still going to give you the payment for this whole month and I will give you good reference. I wish you well-"
I ended the call before she added anything else. I stepped out of the bus stop area and let the rain crash me. I needed to feel the coldness so I could be numb.
Numb to the parents that rejectd me, numb to society and most of all to the world. I had enough.
I run across the road. I was so close to a mental breakdown. I could sense it. I bit my lip so hard to stop from myself from making a noise. I could feel stares glaring at my back as I rushed to the only place I can cry without judgement. My home.
I finally arrived. I never thought I would feel so relived seeing the flithy, colourless building towering over me. As I reached the porch, I smelled the unmistakable scent of urine and body odour. What a warm welcome back greeting.
I couldn't help but smile bitterly as I opened the door and turned to to the right as I went past the broken grey elevator and breathed the familiar musty odour.
"Good morning," called out Mr Jack taking his mails as he grinned missing few front teeth. A tortie cat appeared next to him rubbing against his leg.
I ignored him. Nothing unusual he nonetheless waved and closed his front door. Damn his superficial greetings. He was the main reason why this apartment building reeked of urine. The old man doesnt take care of his smelly cat and let's it use the front of the building as it's toilet for as long as I was here.
Nobody cares besides me, I tried reporting him but clearly there wasn't much progress. I gave up.
A famialr scene entered my view. Room 31. A rough wooden door stood before me and a welcome matt that has been washed too many times. I opened my backpack, found my key and slipped it inside the keyhole and twisted it.
I was met with silence as I opened the door. I removed my wet shoes and closed the door. My eyes slowly adjusted to the to the dim lights in the room. I forgot to open the curtains. A lavender scent lingered in the room as I walked in and took off my jacket. I sank into a brown couch at the corner. It was so comfortable.
My messy single bed was right next to the windows. It looked secluded from the rest of of the room that was filled with endless of shelves coating the walls. Books I stole half from a closing down bookstore, few I didnt return to libraries and the rest I bought for extremely cheap price. It was one of my best memorable days. And seeming out of place was a lime green carrier bag where I store my clothes in.
My kitchen was incredibly small, enough for one person to squeeze into and and next to it few meters away was the bathroom.
It was enough at least to stay alive. I couldn't afford a TV nor pay for TV licence hence my only entertainment was books and set amount of data I have monthly on my phone. It was tragic.
I couldn't help but hug my knees and cry thinking my life. I am only 20 yet my existence is already a failure. I got kicked out of the house when I turned 16. I failed my education, couldn't even pass GCSE educational level, nevermind anything else.
My mother was right. I am mentally challenged and the only way I could achieve anything in life is being a prostitute. At least I wouldn't leave in this rat hole. Unfortunately I had little pride. I couldn't spread my legs for cash.
My Dad stopped even looking my way when he came to terms with that I was touched by the head as he delicately puts. I was too slow witted to do anything worth thinking. I was meant to be loser. There was no other highway option. It was to be and I fulfilled my destiny by being a waste of space.
For fuck sake I could be even do a simple job properly. I knew I was a lost cause. I am nothing. I have low IQ and high sensitivity towards useless garbage.
It's such a shame. The only good thing about me as a individual was my pretty face. I had memorable baby blue eyes, a heart shaped face, a straight-edged nose and ordinary red colored lips.
But that image quickly shatters when I open my mouth. Someone even once thought it was a pity I wasn't mute.
Back to the presence. I have thought about killing myself over the years but it wasn't as persistent as the last few months. I began to seriously plan how to die. I had nothing to live for. No motivation nor anyone else.
I couldn't overdose because there is still chance of me being alive. Also some pills take hours to work and I didnt want to wait to die. I couldn't drown because it is very painful and a lake is 30 minutes away. Slitting my wrist might take a while, bleeding out. I have no gun.
So the only option is directly stabbing my heart myself. I could do this. It will be painful but at least it would swift. I can leave this hell.
I entered the kitchen and opened the draw. I took our the sharpest knife I had with shaky hands. I stared at the sharp edges. I took a deep breath and walked to the centre of the room and for a moment hesitated but I quickly shook it off.
I have to do this. I need to so I can finally be at peace. I wouldn't feel like crap every day waking up wishing I didnt exist. I can end it in my own terms I reassured myself.
Without thinking further, I abruptly thrust the knife into my chest deeply. I felt so much pain. I gasped but I still pushed.
l fell to the floor. Blood decorating my hands. I can finally leave this place was my last thought as the knife fell from my hands.