The slight ringing in my head gently blinked my eyes open, cold air from the open wall grazing my skin. But neither was pleasant.
He was there, I could tell. I always could.
I ran my hands under the crisp, fridged water trickling from the rusty faucet. Wishing I could shower, I pushed my fingers through my greasy, grimy hair. Replacing the shirt I had on with a subtle button up, I thought how I was already late. 18 hours a day for minimum wage, being late was not my concern.
He was there. The throbbing in my head, the shake in my voice, the regret in my soul. Yeah he was there. He was telling me I've already had one too many second chances, but he won't act on that... Yet.
I trudged down the three sets of stairs, being there is no elevator in this complex. Every wall in here stained or barring a hole. All just failed attempts, mishaps.
1 comment:
I really liked the detail you put into the story. I liked how you explained how the wall looked. It kind of reminds me of the hunger games a little bit. Do you have more of the story?
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