Working in a gas station at minimum wage is probably the most dreaded job of a 21 year old. The worst part is, it is a crappy gas station that really had no purpose but to serve a few fat, old truckers who couldn't afford the expensive cigarettes. The run-down piece of crap might as well have been an abandoned shack with a gas pump and a coffee machine-a cheap one. Hours! That is how long I'd stand behind this faded, puke colored object we call a cash register which is a box and some dividers placed in. I would report this place, probably get it shut down, but I'd lose my job. Plus, nobody is brave enough to walk in here who has had a shower in two weeks. My cold blue eyes just stare emotionless hours upon hours. I've grown used to it or more insane the time I've worked here. I've given up on college, finding another job, getting a life. I never had the resources. So I sit, waiting, rotting. ------------------------------------------------ So, I'm new. I just come up with these things, write them down. This really isn't my best intro but I need something to focus on.
That was pretty good, I found it interesting an hook lining. It'll be interesting to see where this will go.
Thank you. I've written on FF before but it's been about a year. So, I'll try to hone my skills again.
Yes... Short and maybe not the most informative but that's what you need to grab people- make them want more. I'm curious to see where this goes.
Home. The place I can be miserable without payroll. Picture this; me passed out on the couch, a bottle in my hand and a house with clothes everywhere. Paradise, eh? I open my eyes, blinking to try and subdue the blurred vision. When I can see enough to function, I fall off the couch landing on my arms and rolling over on my back. I lay still, breathing hard. My long, straight, black hair falls over my face as I lay there. I haven't had a haircut in a while...anywhere. I try to get up and just fall down again, because I'm weak, and I know I'll die like this someday. I'll pass away, alone, hungover on my floor, laying on clothes that probably have their own city by now. My full beard is always soaked with tears of my own self-pity by the time i can lift my arm again. Pathetic, that is all I can think now. I finally push myself up, fumbling with myself as I trip knocking over my plain brown, wooden lamp. The sound echo's in my mind as I start breaking down crying again, I pick up my bottle and throw it at the little wall mirror that was here before I moved in. The glass shatters, but does not fall. It stays, impossibly. The glass is completely broken; separated, yet not one piece falls. I come closer, peering into the mirror and seeing my face perfectly centered in the shard that seems perfectly placed in the middle. A piece finally falls from the top most portion, hitting a shirt with a week old pizza stain on it. It stays intact, and seems to make so much sense though it is impossible. This is the first time, I truly felt a sense of hope, at my reflection.
I sharply turned my head to the door as three knocks striked the door, firm but gentle. I stumbled, holding the wall on my right side to support me as I lurched towards the plain, brown door. I reached, my hand shaking as turned the cold, metal door-knob. All I see is beauty as the door hinges move, opening the door to the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Her gentle nature was apparent from her soft look, and gentle, dark green eyes. Her face was pale, but her features so beautiful. The embarrassment in her eyes made no sense to me, since I was the one who.looked liked I just escaped the ninth layer of hell. Her soft pink lips opened, and she said "Hello." "Hel-" I cleared my throat, and spoke with my normal deep, and raspy voice. "Hello, can I help you?" I said groggily, rubbing my eyes. "I'm Rachelle. I'm your neighbor..." She continued in her soft tone, my ears enjoying the sound of her voice. It was squeaky enough to be attractive and cute, but not annoying. "I just noticed you never get out of the house... And, honestly, you look like you could use a pick me up. Do you wanna maybe get some coffee?" I stared at her emotionlessly for second, and I opened my mouth as if to speak, but was speechless. I was in total wonder as to why this random stranger came by to invite me to coffee. "Are you okay? I'm just being nice.. I can just go..." She started off, you could tell she was disappointed. I had about thirty thoughts in a half-second, then gently but firmly grabbed her shoulder. I cleared my throat, nodded my head. "Sorry, I just... Don't get visitors often who aren't looking for drugs." I made a ugly half smile and jerked my head to face away from her to hide the sadness my eyes. She looked at me with frustrated eyes that quickly faded into accepting ones. She bit her lip, and started to speak. "-Caffeine is a drug. Get cleaned up and come over to my house. I think you know where I live?" She grinned as she giggled a little. I nodded my head quickly. She smiled once more and headed towards the sidewalk. I slammed the door shut and turned around, and slumped against the door. I looked around at my house, and sighed. I slowly rose up, and regaining my balance, I slowly dragged myself to the shower. --- No, this not gonna be an all-romance story. I promise.