Their Love

There are holes in my jeans that didn’t exist when I took them with me four years ago. Technically, holes in pants are against my work dress code, but no one actually cares and I can’t afford new ones.

I walk to work while staring at my too small hands. I know that I can’t help how small I am, part the work of genetics and the other part forced starvation over the years, but it doesn’t stop me from hating it.

My super glued together shoes hit the sidewalk as I speed walk. I’m technically already early, but I rely on the thirty minutes before work to get my free coffee and give myself a pep talk before I have to talk to strangers for six hours. I walk into the store at exactly three thirty.

“Hello and welcome to Starbucks, how may I help you today?” I hear Emily answer the drive thru in her customer service voice as soon as I walk in.

Katie is behind the counter, brewing a pot of coffee, and I walk up to the register, waiting for her to turn around and notice me. When she does, her eyes light up and she smiles. It’s a good thing I’m exclusively attracted to men or I’d definitely have a crush on her. Hell, I’d probably have a crush on half of my coworkers. I don’t know how they do it, but Starbucks tends to hire the most beautiful women.

“Alex,” Katie says with that wide smile, “what can I get for you today?”

“A venti iced white mocha and a tomato mozzarella sandwich if you have one,” I say.

“Sure thing, I’ll have that right out,” Katie punches in my order on the register, “just give me your numbers again.”

I give her my employee numbers and soon after, I can smell my sandwich in the oven, causing my mouth to water. Once I’ve eaten that sandwich, it’ll be the first thing I’ve eaten all day. I’m so lucky to have a job that gives me free food. With the bills and everything, I barely have any money left over to buy groceries.

Plus, I’m trying to save up money for a bike, especially with fall coming up and winter soon after. I don’t want to have to walk three miles in the cold. It’s been over two years since I’ve gotten this job, and the cold months are always the worst.

I wait by the counter for my food and drink and watch Katie as she works. Emily places my sandwich on the counter with a smile as she answers another drive thru customer, and Katie soon hands me my drink.

“Oh, did you hear,” Katie says, “Jason hired two new employees. They’re going to start training next week, and Jason is gonna start putting them on the afternoon shift when they’re done training. Emily talked to him and Jason agreed that he’s going to start having four people on the afternoon shift.

“When possible,” Emily interjects from her position in the drive thru, “there are still going to be days when only three people are scheduled, but not as many, and hopefully that’ll cause less days like today to happen.

“Wait,” I say, “are you two the only ones working right now?”

“Yep,” Katie says with an eye roll, “Sage called out again.”

“Oh my god,” I say, “here, let me choke down my sandwich and I’ll clock in early.”

“That would be great,” Emily says.

When we finally get out of the store a little past ten, I’m more than ready to go home. I feel exhausted and I know it has something to do with how little sleep I’ve been getting the past few days. It sucks, though, because I don’t have anything to do with my life besides work and I usually only work in the afternoons unless I pick up a shift at a different store. I don’t know why I haven’t been able to sleep like I used to, but every time I try, I’m plagued with these terrible nightmares like when I first ran away.

I can’t sleep yet, though, I still have a forty-five minute walk ahead of me.

I wave goodbye to Emily and Katie as they get into their cars, and I start walking toward my apartment. When I first started working here, quite a few of my coworkers would offer me rides to my place, but I had to decline them every time. I can’t have people knowing where I live. It’s not safe for me or them. That’s why my cost of living is so expensive. I know that it would be cheaper to have roommates, but I can’t afford to let anyone know where I live.

When I get home, I’m dead on my feet and I think that maybe tonight I’ll get a good night’s sleep if for no other reason than pure exhaustion. I shuffle with the keys on my keychain and unlock my door.

I get inside and pass through my living room and into my bedroom. My bed is one of my most prized possessions. I got it a couple of months after I got the job at Starbucks, back before my landlord raised my rent and I was still able to save a little bit of money every month and could still afford groceries.

I know that there are some places nearby that are cheaper, but it was hard as hell to even get this place. My parents never taught me about things like renting an apartment or how to get a job. I was always raised for one purpose and that didn’t include me moving away from the land that raised me without explicit permission.

I didn’t even learn what a co-signer was until I tried looking for places after I ran away, and almost every apartment required one. I spent my first year after running away on the streets and in various homeless shelters until I lucked out with this place, and now I can’t leave without going back to being homeless. No matter where I live, I know that I don’t make three times the rend and I have no one to co-sign a new lease.

It could be worse, I suppose as I strip down to my boxers and hop into my very nice queen sized bed that I still only managed to afford when it was on sale. I could be dead.

I’d be lying if I said I’d never considered it, dying. I’d run from my problems before. It has never seemed like much of a leap to get rid of them forever, but something has always seemed to stop me. Despite the pain of everything I’ve gone through and the constant fear that I feel, I can’t help but feel like there’s something waiting for me, that something wonderful is going to happen. Maybe it’s just dumb hope; my father always said that hope is for the young and foolish, but if those words don’t describe me, I don’t know what does.

I lay down, resting my head on my pillows, and pull the comforter over my body. It’s actually pretty warm in my apartment. One of the things that I do to save on costs is to use the thermostat as little as possible, so my apartment is always warm in the summer and cold in the winter. Despite this, no matter how hot it is, I can’t sleep without a blanket covering me.

I close my eyes and soon after, I’m able to fall asleep

kThat night, in my dreams, I’m outside of my apartment door trying to get in, but the key won’t work. I try to turn the knob, my attempts turning frantic when it doesn’t work.

Suddenly, I hear a loud, collective howl from right behind me and I turn around. What I see causes the keys to drop from my hand and I’m too terrified to pick them back up. I know that I should, that I should run to safety, but I can’t. There’s no where to go.

In the hallway of my apartment complex are three large, gray wolves. They are standing so close to me that I can practically feel their hot breaths. I’m trembling in fear and I unconsciously take a step backwards. My back hits my apartment door with a thumb and I whimper as one of the wolves takes a step forward. The wolf howls, but the howl doesn’t sound as intimidating as the earlier howl. It sounds almost sad.

The wolf takes another step forward, but stops when I let out a panicked yelp. The wolf tilts its head to the side and lets quick bark. The other two wolves bark in succession and I can feel tears well in my eyes as I struggle to breathe.

I close my eyes for a second, and when I open them, I stare at the wolves as they begin to shift, bones cracking as they do. Oh god, they’re going to kill me. There’s no way I even have a hope of protecting myself against three werewolves. Right when I am beginning to see the faces of the werewolves who will surely kill me, I wake up sweating.

I’m panting and I run a hand through my hair only to find it drenched in my sweat. I shudder and search for my phone. When I find it, I look at the time and see that it’s a little past three in the morning. I sigh. I guess there’s a slim to none chance that I’m going to be able to fall back to sleep.

I get out of bed, grab a change of clothes, and go to the bathroom. I need a shower.

When I get out of the bathroom after a ridiculously long shower, I go back to my bed and prop my head on my pillows. I forgot to plug my phone in last night, and now it’s only on thirteen percent, so I plug it into the charger. I’m happy that I have one of those really long chargers so that I can still hold my phone on my bed while it’s plugged in even though the outlet is several feet away. I decide to just lay in bed and watch YouTube videos.

I highly doubt that I’ll be able to fall back asleep, but just in case I am able to manage a few more hours, I don’t want to do anything too taxing. Plus, lately I’ve been obsessed with watching those Reddit story videos. I don’t know why, considering the majority of them seem overdramatic or made up, but listening to other people’s problems always helps keep me distracted from mine, even if it’s not one hundred percent.

I spend hours watching videos, even as the sun comes up, and throughout the videos I can’t help but thinking about the dream. This isn’t the first time those three wolves have appeared in my dreams, but it is the first time they’ve started to shift. It only confirms my fears; that they’re werewolves and they’re after me for some reason. It terrifies me.

My mom always said that dreams are from the moon goddess. They’re prophecies, warnings, or her trying to prepare you for something that is going to happen. It makes me wonder, what exactly is going to happen? What do the dreams mean?

I left the only home I ever knew, and the pack that I was forced to join four years ago because I want nothing to do with werewolves. My own kind have brought me nothing but pain and suffering. Even with the exceptions, I keep my distance. I’m not safe around them.

I’m terrified that those three werewolves are from my old pack, that they’ve been tasked with taking me back there. I can’t go back there; I’d rather die.

After a while of YouTube videos, I can’t get my worry to stop and my brain to shut up. I try to push my fears to the back of my mind. I have much more practical things to be stressed about.

I decide to open my bank account app. That always feels like having a bucket of cold water thrown on me. And after I check it to see that I’m relying on my next paycheck to have enough for rent, I get up and decide to clean.