ELIZABETH
I dumped the stack of papers I had gotten from the mail all over the table with a loud thud. Resisting the urge to slump down into a sofa and let sleep sweep me away, I tossed my messenger bag on the sofa instead and grudgingly lowered myself into the uncomfortable plastic chair instead.
Work, like always, had been brutal. At some point it felt like I would collapse clean out on from how fatigued I felt. But I couldn't afford to do that. I had to work.
Untying my thick hair from the tight bun it was in, I rummaged through the mail, carefully looking through each. It was the same as always.
Due rent. Electricity bills.
Bills. Bills. And more bills.
Great. Just what I needed.
Packing them all up and pushing them into a cabinet so full of bills that it was difficult to shut, I walked into the kitchen to see if there was something to eat. I was famished. I hadn't eaten all day. It had taken all the self control and rationality I had to remind myself of how unethical and consequential it would be to devour the box of pizza I had delivered earlier today. I was literally going crazy.
I scrunched my nose at the stench coming off the stack of dirty dishes piled up in the sink. I felt irritation course through me. Mom knew how much I despised it when dishes were piled up overdue. But that didn't stop her. It didn't stop either of them.
"I have to do everything myself," I muttered, although I knew no one would reply.
Rolling my sleeves up, I proceeded to do the dishes, trying to distract myself by recounting the events of today so I could focus on something else other than the stench. When I was done doing the dishes, I looked through the refrigerator for something to eat. All it contained was an apple and few bottles of water.
It was no surprise, but it still stung. Ignoring my grumbling stomach, I grabbed the apple and made my way to my room. Sitting Indian style on the peeling carpet, I emptied my messenger's bag taking out my notes. My classes had lasted for about four hours today, and right after I had to rush off to work. I didn't have textbooks to study with so I relied on the bits of notes I took during classes.
For years, I had dreamed of being a lawyer someday, which was why I had struggled despite the difficulties to get into the university. But sometimes it seemed like it wasn't worth it. The only way I could afford my tuition was by working three jobs. I couldn't get any high paying jobs because I had no certification yet. So I was stuck with the three worst jobs on earth; delivery service, store clerk, and waitressing. And they still weren't enough to foot all my expenses. I lacked a good number of necessary textbooks and manuals. The most I could do was occasionally ask a friend to lend me theirs for some time.
I bit into the apple, grimacing at how it tasted. I quickly spit it out. It was rotten. I shut my eyes tightly. We didn't have electricity so we couldn't even use the freezer. I longed for the weekend to be over so I could be on my way back to college. I lived in one of the dorms, with a roommate I only saw once in a blue moon. The college wasn't far so I came back home every weekend to stay with my parents. And it sure wasn't fun. Every single time I stayed over for the weekend, I instantly regretted my decision. But it didn't deter me from visiting. I was their only child so I couldn't abandon them. No matter how much I wanted to wash my hands off their business, I couldn't. There was no one else to look out for them if I didn't.
Sighing, I pushed my books away, swiping out my phone and dialing Stephen. We hadn't spoken in days, I had started to wonder if he was avoiding me. But I didn't think he would do that to me. We had both been busy with school. But it didn't make me miss him any less.
After the third ring, I gave up. I was worried now. I contemplated on going to check up on him. But I knew he didn't like it when I visited without notifying him first.
We had met a year ago, just before I had gotten into college. He would pick me up after work everyday since we'd started dating and take me somewhere quiet and peaceful. We'd talk for hours, that sometimes I would lose track of time and forget about the other things I had to do. And like that, I found myself beginning to love him.
Sighing, I tossed my phone on the bed. That was why I was concerned about him. Not to mention how bad I missed him as well. I just hoped he was okay.
A notification pinged my phone and I sat up in excitement when I saw that it was a message from Stephen. I wondered why he hadn't just called me instead.
Tapping on the message, I got my response.
'Busy. Talk later.'
I bit down on my lip. That was all he was going to say? He didn't even ask how I was doing. I tried to push the unnecessary pain I had begun to feel. He was busy with school after all. I was supposed to understand, instead of getting angry over nothing.
I typed my reply: 'Okay. Love you.' Deciding it was sufficient, I pressed send, moving my books to make space on my bed to lay down. Recounting the events of today, and already planning out my schedule for tomorrow, I lay there—glancing at my phone every few seconds—and waited for a reply from Stephen that never came.