my eyes opened not too slowly not too fast, nightmares from my last sleep are still vivid on my memory, My body was slick with beads of cold sweat, and my breath—ragged, unstable—felt caught between panic and exhaustion. even though these are not new experiences for me but they still feel the same, never less terrorising. always gripping me with the same intensity.
I glance at the clock perched on the table. It's 5:39 in the morning. waking up early is not my thing but unfortunately can't help, work schedule doesn't really cooperates well with giving fuck about employees dislikes and interests. speaking about them , here my brain also doesn't cooperates with mornings either. when i wake up , It takes my brain ages to process the basics—*who am I? What am I doing? What's my name?* Coffee is a lifeline in these moments, helping me regain some sense of clarity. For someone like me, whose parents left her with plenty of money, waking up for a 9-to-5 job might sound a bit sanctimonious. Yet, I still do it. "Why?"you may ask. Honestly, I don't really know. Maybe it's routine, maybe it's something deeper, but I keep showing up.
After all the hassles I went through last night, this morning feels unusually peaceful. I love it—this stillness, this calmness. I love the feeling of nothingness, even though I know it's fleeting. The peace will likely last a day or two, if I'm lucky. But for now, I savor it. I light up a cigarette, letting the fragrance wrap around me. my body feels alive now.
today's a rainy day, raining is good, specially when you need to hide something, specially when you need to mask the smells from a shredded corpse.
It's even better when it's a full-blown rainstorm. The pounding rain adds a certain vibe to everything, an almost eerie aesthetic. The chaos of nature matching the mess left behind. It feels poetic in its own twisted way, like the storm was made for moments like this. everything becomes so grey, grey is one of my favourite colours.
i look through the window, opening my titanium white curtains slowly, i can see my garden from here, you might not expect from someone like me to have a full blown garden but gardening is my hobby, i do it when my minds a mess. i am more of a quiet and calm person, messy mind is not my thing but sometimes i just can't help, probably a generic thing i inherited from my mother. who was a gold medalist over-thinker, always getting tangled in her own thoughts. was also a very low iq average person who doesn't know how to think straight , that's why she ended up so miserable. the word miserable is so coated with my mother, sometimes i think this word was very likely invented for her and her specially.
After finishing my oh-so-dear-to-soul Nicaraguan coffee,i begin the routine, head to the shower, step out, towel off, and slip into my clothes, the fabric hugging my skin just right. makeup—layering it on with precision, transforming my tired reflection into something polished. With every brushstroke, I feel more put together, i don't really need makeup much, again thanks to my genes from my parents, being good looking did me a lot of favours but makeup makes me feel more calm, i grew up looking at my mother trying to hide every imperfections from her face just to please my dad enough so he doesn't leave her, that's one thing i liked about her because i don't love imperfections either, gotta be perfect all the time.
sky is thick with grey clouds, heavy rain pouring down in relentless sheets, and the rumble of thunder echoes in the distance, air is rich with the scent of damp earth and wet leaves, the kind of smell that turns me on, makes me ride a giant stick,
Humidity hangs at ninety-one percent, making the atmosphere feel dense and charged. I take out my Aston Martin,ready to slice through the storm as I head to the office. The rain hits the windshield in a steady rhythm, setting the mood more.
i work for a tech company that's pretty popular in my country, might sound impressive but this place is filled with trashy guys, when i say filled it's not exaggerated i promise, this place is drenched with them. look at my boss Mr.jack for much closer view..he licks my shoes, not because my shoes are Christian Louboutin red-soled heels but because he wants to lick my nice pair of tits whenever he gets the chance. it might be the shortest pathway for my promotion but i keep him hungry. i don't need his extra bucks, i already have that enough. i need him under my shoes, wiggling around his tail like a husky who's desperate.
" You're early today Ms.Arwen" it's my colleague Mark. he's another one who's also included in the community of hunger dogs, sex and money is their main goal in life.
" yeah the roads were empty" I reply, keeping it short, already tired. Mark always has that air about him, as if he's part of some game I have no interest in playing.
"Ahh, you finally came...," Lisa rushed in, breathless, cutting through the tension like a lifeline. "We have so much work today. Hurry up, Daria!" She spared me from enduring another second of Mark's ugly face. Lisa knows I can't stand him.
"You just saved me," I mutter, shooting her a quick smile. "Your coffee's on me today."
Lisa's the kinda friend who always stands just behind you, being a good friend. she resembles my mother a lot. i keep her with me not because i like her but because she's a clay i can shape just however i like, it's a big help.
"you realise it's the fifth time in a row this week you're buying me coffee, it's fine Daria" she says but i still insist.
Lisa's favourite drink is caramel latte coffee. half cup milk, one tablespoon brown sugar, one tablespoon sugar-free caramel topping, one tablespoon caramel sauce , one fourth teaspoon vanilla extract and finally one cup coffee. when she's tired from work her comfort food is stir fried noodles with some hot and sour shrimp soup. her favourite colour is yellow and tasting different kinds of flavours is her favourite thing to do. i know every little details about her. i know every little details about everyone in the office. it's my habit, to study my surroundings, helps me understand the darkness of human nature because i can't just trust anyone out of nothing. i take time with people, before i let them be friends with me, it's one of my trait to keep up with the sweet and kind personality i portray.
people are really hard to play with if you're weak in the game, but to hold a strong ground you need to understand their character, their interests and interactions. everything is hard and nothing is easy to get, especially trust, to make yourself more trustable you need to be cautious to learn the lost equations of their attributes. it's important to imitate their energy, it's important to show that you flow in the same river they're flowing in.
"Anyway, the boss wanted to see you in his office," Lisa says, almost as an afterthought while reaching for her coffee.
"Why?" I ask, already dreading it.
" i don't know, maybe he wants to see your....beautiful face and maybe..... jerkoff " she teases, how mr.jack and half of the male in my office feels about me- she already knows so well.
I roll my eyes and head to his office. Sure enough, there he is—Mr. Jack, sleeves rolled up, as if he's going to do some hard work, drowning in that god-awful cologne. The smell hits me like a brick wall, almost making me gag. He probably thinks he looks like some very attractive alpha male, but he just looks like every other bitch. his pathetic over and over attempts of making me feel something for him makes it way worse.
" you look so beautiful today Daria" he says, with a soft grin in his face, he looks like a pervert. " thank you Mr.jack" i reply with my coldest voice possible
He must've picked up on my 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲-𝐧𝐨𝐭-𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 vibe, because he changed the subject just right after that. " i have a big project for you to handle" he starts to speak as he moves around me, such a creepy man.
" i know you're going to be best person for it" he continues. later he starts to show me the files of the project as he handles me that and explains the details, his weird behaviours also included.
i try to rush back as soon as he's done but it just never stops. he drops one last bomb. "And don't forget, we have an office dinner tonight. I'll be waiting for you." His words hang in the air, like a threat wrapped in fake politeness.
I nod, already planning my exit strategy.
As soon as I turn to leave, I notice someone else entering the office—someone I hadn't seen before. He's standing near the door, clearly waiting to meet Mr. Jack. A new hire, judging by the fresh, awkward look on his face. He glances between me and Jack, I quickly step past him, giving a brief nod before making my escape. I can still feel Mr. Jack's eyes burning into my back as I walk out, but at least I'm out of that hellhole—for now.