𝘎𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩, 𝘢 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩. "𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘥? 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘨𝘨!"
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳.
"𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴?!" 𝘈 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵.
"𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢��� 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘮'𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘦𝘳! 𝘖𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘥, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳!"
"𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢!?" 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳.
"𝘋𝘢𝘥, 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘮. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘨𝘨!"
𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺, 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘭��� 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳. "𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦!"
"𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘺, 𝘥𝘢𝘥,"
"𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘯 𝘛𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘰, 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯!" 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦.
𝘏𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘵, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 ���𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘭𝘢 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥. "𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦."
𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥. "𝘕𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣 𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨."
𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳. "𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯?!"
"𝘜𝘩...𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦."
𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬, 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘳, "𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘯!"
𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳. "𝘑𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘴! 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦, 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢!"
"𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘑𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦?" 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
"𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳?" 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘯𝘰𝘸.
"𝘏𝘮𝘮, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘑𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘭. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘓𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩."
"𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵...𝘈𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵! 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨!"
𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵��� 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴.
𝘚𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘯'𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥𝘭𝘺, "𝘒𝘢𝘻𝘶𝘮𝘪! 𝘒𝘢𝘻𝘶𝘮𝘪 𝘈𝘪𝘥𝘢. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶."
"𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯?"
"𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘺." 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥.
"𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵?! 𝘕𝘰! 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘭. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘺."
"𝘛𝘰 𝘮𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵?"
𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥.
Inside the chilly room cocooned in total darkness, Erica was curled up in a ball, salty tears staining her face. She sat up, wiping away the wetness on her cheeks. Switching on her phone, the screen flashed brightly. She squinted her eyes, reading the time and date.
Ah. The time has finally come. She sighed helplessly and rolled to her feet. Sleep had been robbed off of her now. She would just wait until the start of work.
Inside the repair shop, Erica was like a madman. She worked her head off, taking no breaks. Her body was in a hyperactive mode. She kept taking orders until the shop's closing time and her colleagues were gaping at her like she sprouted ten heads. Having had enough of Erica's shit, Old Carlos dragged her to the common room.
"What is wrong with you, girl? You're cleaning out the orders like there's no tomorrow!" Erica stared blankly at the man in front of her. Old Carlos furiously shook her shoulders.
"Hey! Stop it!" She snapped, removing the hands on her shoulders forcefully.
"Erica, you stop it! What's happened to you?" Old Carlos' voice trembled like a swaying leaf.
She closed-open her mouth, pondering what to say instead she just settled on a common reason. "I...I...just needed the money, that's why I worked nonstop. Really. There's nothing to worry about."
Scrunching his eyebrows, Old Carlos's eyes roamed over her, searching for anything amiss. "Are you sure?"
Erica tapped Old Carlos's shoulder and said, "I assure you I'm fine." before giving a small smile.
Old Carlos' features finally relaxed. "Alright. I'll believe you but tell me if you need any help, okay?"
"Yes. Thank you. Then I'll leave now."
Putting on her earphones, she chose a jazz song to listen to while walking towards the subway. She slumped on the seat and closed her eyes the entire journey. Reaching her home, she dragged her beat-up body back to the bedroom and dozed off.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥, 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘰, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺.
"𝘔𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘬𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳?" 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘯.
"𝘏𝘶𝘩. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵?"
"𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩, 𝘬𝘪𝘥. 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱?'
𝘌𝘺𝘦𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥, 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥, "𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘯𝘰����. 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘥𝘶𝘦𝘭."
𝘍𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘑𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥, "𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢! 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦." 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦'𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯.
"𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦." 𝘚𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘯'𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬.
𝘚𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺, 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘻𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘫𝘰𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥. 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢'𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘵, ��𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵. 𝘚𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘤𝘢𝘨𝘦.
"𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳!" 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘴.
𝘔𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰 𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘭. 𝘍𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴. 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘑𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥'𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮. 𝘈 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘨��𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘸 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘻𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴.
"𝘕𝘰! 𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘨𝘰! 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱! 𝘕𝘰!" 𝘑𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘥'𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘵.
"𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴!"
𝘈 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳.
Erica abruptly lurched upward as labored breaths gripped her. Her body and clothes were soaked in sweat. She put a hand on her heart that was still pounding hard and took a deep breath. You've got this, Erica. Slowly, she shifted herself into a comfortable sitting position. Laying one hand on her belly and the other on the chest, she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Inhale. Exhale. She repeated the deep breathing exercise until her entire body was relieved from the stress.
She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. This time, her dream was a prelude to hell.
That morning, Erica did the same in her work. Old Carlos scolded her harshly, ordering her to take the leave for the next days. Not giving her the chance to change her jumpsuit, he chased her out at 5 PM and locked the doors of the shop. Outside, she stood like a statue, processing what just happened. Onlookers gawked and whispered at her. She jerked back to attention, then briskly ran off.
The subway station was piling up with commuters as the rush hour loomed. She paid for a ticket and walked towards the train. As she neared the platform, shimmering lights started to blur her vision. She slowed her pace, trying to make sense of what she was feeling. The lights didn't stop but spread more outward. She turned her heels towards the waiting area and collapsed on the chair as fine-needle sensations prickled her extremities. She rummaged through her bag for her medicine and cursed. It was not there. She rapidly texted Zeke.
[Subway. Help. Now.]
A feeling of tightness in her neck started as soon as she sent the text. She rolled and stretched it to ease the tension, but a sudden, stabbing pain in her forehead caused her to keel over. She pressed a palm on it, but the pain extended to the back of her head. An immense wave of nausea washed over her. Staggering to the bathroom on wobbly legs, she gripped her now pulsing head with one hand and covered her mouth with the other. Shit. Someone was vigorously drilling into one part of her head. She vomited in the sink. The females evaded her with disgusted looks on their faces. Her phone rang. She wiped her mouth and answered the call while tightly gripping the marble for support.
"I'm here. Where are you?"
"Bathroom." she rasped while fumbling on the wall to get outside the bathroom. She crouched in the far corner, clutching at her ears and closing her eyes shut. She didn't dare to move. She needed dark and quiet. It was really too painful. She felt like chopping her head off to just end it. Where are you, Zeke?
Hurried footsteps approached her, then she peeled one eye, seeing the familiar pair of shoes. Her heart sighed in relief. He spoke softly, "Migraine?"
She grunted in response.
"Can't walk?"
She grunted again.
"I'm sorry for this. Just endure, okay?" Zeke slowly scooped her legs and back then carried her princess style. A whole new level of pain shot through her with the motion and she gritted her teeth. Her entire head was throbbing intensely now, as if tons of bricks were crashing down on her. The gossiping voices of the crowd didn't help her either. She didn't give a single flying fuck about what they say. Who cared about dignity when her head was splitting open? She snarled. The urge to bomb the place for just a moment of quiet was clawing at her.
Facing them, Zeke growled harshly, "No pictures or I will fuck you all up." Even if her eyes were closed, she knew Zeke was baring a threatening expression right now. The crowd immediately shut up and looked anywhere but them, shoving their phones away. They knew the power in his words and they dared not to offend him. No one messed with the Cohen Clan.
With that, they left and went to Zeke's car. The pain slightly subsided because of Zeke's careful movements, but she knew she shouldn't rejoice yet. Another round was coming for her. He gently lowered her in the backseat and drove off.
"Shall I bring you to the hospital?" Zeke glanced at her. She had a clean towel sprawled on her face to block the light.
"Mm. No meds." she murmured wearily, and no more was heard. Zeke kept quiet and concentrated driving at moderate speed as to not disturb her.