Hope stood behind the counter, her feet aching from a long shift that had started much earlier in the day.
She wore the standard uniform: a red apron, and a cap. The din of customers chatting, kids crying, and the constant beeping of fryers filled the air. She plastered on a smile, even though her patience was wearing thin.
A customer, an impatient woman named Karen, tapped her fingers on the counter, her face twisted in a frown.
"Excuse me, miss. How long does it take to get a simple burger and fries? I've been waiting for over ten minutes!"
Hope took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure.
"I'm really sorry for the delay, ma'am. We're a bit short-staffed tonight, but I assure you your order will be out soon."
Karen huffed, clearly not satisfied with the answer.
"This is unacceptable. I'm in a hurry! I demand to speak to your manager!"
Hope turned to the back, where her manager was busy handling a crisis with the fryer. She knew he wouldn't be able to help right now.
"I'm really sorry, ma'am. Our manager is currently occupied, but I can offer you a free drink while you wait."
Karen rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in frustration.
"A free drink? That's the best you can do? This is ridiculous!"
Hope felt her blood pressure rising. She forced a tight smile and nodded, handing Karen a cup for the drink.
As Karen stormed off to the drink station, Hope turned to the next customer, trying to push the encounter out of her mind. But the evening continued to spiral out of control. More customers complained about the wait times, and the kitchen struggled to keep up with the orders.
About twenty minutes later, Karen returned, this time with her drink spilled all over the front of her shirt.
"Look at this! Your machines are malfunctioning! This is the worst service I've ever experienced!"
Hope's hands trembled as she tried to manage the situation. She glanced around, hoping for some backup, but her colleagues were equally swamped.
"I'm really sorry, ma'am. Let me get some napkins for you."
Karen crossed her arms, glaring at Hope.
"Napkins? Are you serious? I want a refund and an apology!"
Hope's frustration boiled over. She felt her temples threaten to burst.
"I understand you're upset, and I apologize. Let me just get my manager—"
Karen interrupted, her voice rising.
"No! I want you to handle this. It's your job, isn't it?"
At that moment, another customer at the end of the counter shouted for assistance, adding to the chaos.
Hope's vision blurred as she felt overwhelmed by the noise, the demands, and the sheer exhaustion.
"What's wrong with you? Are you even listening?"
Hope snapped. She yanked off her cap, tossed it onto the counter, and ripped off her apron, throwing it to the floor. Her face turned red with a mix of anger and relief as she finally let out what she'd been holding in.
"You know what? I've had enough of this. I'm done!"
Karen's eyes widened in shock as Hope raised her middle finger in a defiant gesture.
"Here's your apology you g*ddamn b*tch!"
Without another word, Hope turned on her heel and stormed out of the restaurant. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving the chaos and noise inside.
As she stepped into the cool night air, a wave of liberation washed over her. She felt lighter, despite the uncertainty of what would come next. For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to breathe deeply and embrace the unknown only for reality to ruthlessly crash down on her.
Hope was a 20-year-old college orphan dropout with no boyfriend and no stable job; the one she just quit was her thirty-sixth one.
She started walking down the lively streets, the neon signs and bustling nightlife contrasting sharply with the turmoil inside her.
People laughed and chatted around her, completely unaware of her inner struggles. Hope shoved her hands into her pants pockets, feeling the weight of her circumstances pressing down on her again.
"Thirty-six jobs and not one that stuck,"
She muttered to herself.
"What the hell am I even doing?"
She trudged on, past street performers, late-night food vendors, and groups of friends enjoying the evening.
The smell of street food wafted through the air, reminding her of how long it had been since she had eaten anything substantial.
Her stomach growled in response, but she ignored it, too preoccupied with her thoughts.
Reaching her rental apartment, a small few stories high, run-down place that barely justified the rent, she fumbled for her keys.
As she unlocked the door, her smartphone beeped. She took it out, her heart sinking as she saw the notification from her bank.
A few hundred dollars had been automatically deducted from her account, leaving her with only a few dozen dollars.
"F*ck"
She cursed, opening the banking app to see the details.
It was a payment for her student loans. She had forgotten that it was due today. Leaning against the doorframe, she sighed heavily, the full weight of her situation crashing down on her.
"Great. Just f*cking great,"
She muttered, her voice thick with frustration and despair.
"How am I supposed to survive with only a few bucks to my name?"
She entered her apartment, a small one-room space not Including the kitchen and bathroom that felt even smaller now. The walls were bare, save for a few posters she had tacked up to make the place feel a bit more like home.
She threw her backpack onto the worn-out couch and slumped down beside it, staring at the ceiling.
The weight of her situation pressed down on her, suffocating and relentless. Tears of frustration and hopelessness welled up in her eyes, and she let out a guttural scream.
"Why does everything have to be so damn hard?"
She yelled, her voice echoing through the empty apartment.
In a fit of rage, she grabbed a cup from the coffee table and smashed it against the wall. The sound of breaking glass was oddly satisfying, so she continued, cursing her life at the top of her lungs.
"$%$^%*&%&^$$%&$&^%%*%^*^*&*..."
She smashed a plate, then a lamp, each crash and shatter releasing a bit of her pent-up anger and despair.
Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she tore through the room, destroying whatever she could find until she had no strength left.
Finally, exhausted and drained, Hope collapsed onto the floor amidst the debris of her outburst.
She sat there for a moment, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. When she could cry no more, she wiped her eyes and stood up, feeling a numbness settle over her.
Hope walked out onto her apartments balcony, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat of her rage.
She climbed onto the railing, looking down at the bustling metropolis below. The city was alive with lights and sounds, indifferent to her struggles. She closed her eyes, letting the wind whip through her hair.
"Maybe it would be easier to just... end it,"
She whispered to herself, teetering on the edge.
Just as she was about to let go, a flash of light caught her attention. She opened her eyes and saw a comet streaking across the sky, the more she looked the brighter It became and It looked like it was heading straight for her.
"What the f—?"
Before she could finish the thought, the comet hit her, its impact flinging her back into her room.
She crashed into the floor, dazed and disoriented. Groaning in pain, she slowly stood up, trying to make sense of what had just happened.