The second part that all seven of you have been waiting for! Stay tuned folks!
The Employee
Amelia Smith wrecked her mind with nonsensical problems, lying tortuously between reality and unconsciousness before the shrill cackling of her alarm pulled her into her life. Her mornings began with her gaze dropping lazily to her left, scanning the bed for her husband. Her heart wretched because unfortunately, the only time his miserable face wasn’t staring back through closed eyelids was when he was facing away.
Her eyes stayed fixed despondently on the paper-white front door as she descended the stairs. The distant voice of a boy saying, “Pass the…erm…butter” punched a hole in her stomach that filled with a familiar severe reluctance and her sight blurred with acquiescent tears which she blinked into suppression. She continued statically towards the kitchen and the sound of four thumb tips tapping two Blackberry Bold 9900s.
The door closed behind her. At this point, she always imagined that she’d just escaped her cell, but was now stuck in the prison complex, on her way to another cell.
Even my thoughts are fucking bland and automated.
She drove to work. Traffic. Lots of people in their cars looking as depressed and tired as she did.
That’s good I guess.
She got to work at 8:34am. 26 minutes early.
Now what?
She sat at her desk and began working. Typing. Answered the phone. The man shouted at her and hung up. She breathed the tears in sharply. Typing. Spreadsheets. Fifteen minute lunch break outside.
This should be nice.
She tried to smile at a male doctor who passed her, but the muscles around her lips seemed to twitch nervously and she felt like it was too difficult. It didn’t matter. The man didn’t give her a side glance.
Asshole.
She sat in her chair. Stared at her computer monitor.
Her boss fired her. Something different.
On the drive home, her calm outer appearance harmoniously contained the quietly violent beatings of her heart. Tears built in her eyes until they uniformly crawled down the bottom of her chin, and then dropped off and out of existence. Amelia became submerged in panic and felt suddenly as if she was drowning in insanity when she realised that she was crying because what she was trying to figure out was which rabbits to sell to each town. Confusing reality with my imagination while trying to sleep is one thing, but it can’t be normal to be doing this while driving. Can it? She followed this thought by the realisation that she didn’t know any town names and was making them up. She parked the car.
A large fist emerged from the dark night and rapped the window of the car, sending vibrations rippling through Amelia’s skull. Her head slowly gravitated away from the window, fell back against the headrest, and then lopped to the left. Ecstasy formed a vacuum in her lungs when she opened her eyes to the vacant seat. Her eyes happily closed for a second before the glass between her startled ear and the intrusive knuckle shook irritatingly again. She turned her gaze to the suited form whose faceless head stared parallel to her face through the window on the right side of the car. Her hand trembled on the door handle, which she unlocked quietly without pushing the door outwards. Then in one motion, she slid round on the seat so the heels of her feet faced the crack of the door and her legs extended violently outward from a 45 degree angle, snapping the heels on her shoes and splitting the unidentified mound in the middle of the featureless face, creating a splash of red against the white. Amelia fell on the figure and threw her fists against the face. Splatters of crimson blood painted the blank face and deep purple bruises bled under the skin. She stopped only when she could no longer see white. She collectedly got into the car and drove out of the car park.
Life in a Television Show 