A New Beginning
Deja
With a loud groan, I slammed my newspaper down against the broken dark brown table, then raised my hand to run my fingers through my black hair. Since I had left my ex behind me, life has decided to throw a curveball at me around every corner imaginable, but it had to be done, needed to be done. Pushing the kitchen chair back, I stood up and walked towards my drab-colored couch, plopped down, grabbed my laptop, and opened it, beginning to search for available jobs, one that would preferably be simple to do and the pay was enough not to be struggling from paycheck to p
I will never forget the fear laced with excitement coursing through my veins the moment I took my very first step into my new life; it was the best day of my life. Before then, my life was nothing short of hatred and shouting over the smallest of things. I had no regrets over leaving, nor did I feel horrible about my decision. I, now being hundreds of miles away from the bastard, was struggling with being able to pay rent and grew more agitated with each passing day. Placing my fingers on my laptop’s mouse, I began to swipe through the many available jobs throughout the area before something piqued my interest. The position of being a personal assistant, unfortunately, in this case, I had no training, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be too big of a task, besides scheduling meetings, sending emails, and possibly getting the boss a fresh cup of coffee there wasn’t much else to do. It couldn’t be that hard.
My fingers flew across the keyboard, putting in all of the needed information to apply, and once I was finished, I pressed the bright green submit button in the corner and then closed my laptop gently. Perhaps, there is a rainbow on the other side of all this. Now, the only thing left was waiting for a phone call or an email to decide my fate. So, I decided to do just that and sit on the couch; thankfully, in a short amount of time, I had received an email; opening it, I smiled widely at the email stating that they were very excited but would prefer to have an in-person interview. I suppose that it makes sense; giving myself a firm nod, I moved the laptop from my lap to the couch and walked to my room, ignoring the never-ending mountain of clothes on my bed that didn’t seem to stop growing and began to dig through it wanting to find the perfect outfit.
Digging through for what seemed to feel like an eternity, I grinned, finally finding the perfect outfit. With a giggle, I turned around to look at the heels that were neatly placed in the corner, my outfit being a black pencil skirt matched with a tan blouse; if this hadn’t screamed professional or elegance, I didn’t know what did. Grabbing the first pair of black heels that I saw, I grabbed them and placed my outfit in the bathroom. Placing my hands on my hips with a gentle smile, but it quickly was replaced by a frown when my eyes focused on the flashing red and blue lights that shone through my window directly onto my wall. Though the neighborhood wasn’t often known to be the greatest, I’d choose this place a million times over.
Finally finding a place to park my piece of junk of a car, I turned it off, pulled the key out of the ignition, and stuffed them in my bag before grabbing a small mirror from my purse, opening it to look at myself, hoping that I had looked presentable, then finally closed it, then climbed out of the car. Once my eye landed on the tall building, I couldn’t stop myself from gasping; it was beautiful. I could only imagine how much the window cleaner gets paid because sparkling wasn’t even the word to describe how clean they were. Hoisting my purse over my shoulder, I closed my eyes to fill my lungs with the crisp air of freedom and strode towards the doors of the building, already feeling my heel rubbing against the back of my heels, but I quickly masked the pain with a smile.
Once inside, I was awestruck by the throng of men and women sitting in snow-white chairs, some being on their phones while others flipped magazines with bored expressions. Though there were many people, I mentally blocked them out and approached the large wooden office counter desk stationed in the middle of this massive room. Seeing the top of someone’s head behind their screen, I smiled.
“Um, excuse me, I’m here for the in-person interview for the personal assistant position,” I explained. The woman finally tilted her head back and pushed up her large round glasses that rested on her pointed nose. The woman looked me up and down as if she were inspecting me before giving herself a firm nod.
“I understand, you may stand in line with the others,” the woman responded in a monotonous tone and went back to typing. I was trying not to think of anything negative about the woman, but due to her posture, I could instantly tell she had wanted to go home. Glancing at everyone, I realized that I wasn’t unique; the email had been automated. Get it together, Deja, I thought to myself, and walked up to an available chair, sat down, pulled my phone out of my purse, then swiped through it, acting as if I had other things to do. Checking the texts and voicemails, I noticed I had at least twenty unanswered texts from him. I know I shouldn’t even be thinking about reading them, but I grew curious. I opened one of the texts:
Come on, babe, I miss you so much! It’s time for you to come home. XoXo
Most of his messages were similar, but I knew better than to fall for his tricks once more; he was always like this. Once he had me wrapped around his finger, that was when he would bring me down. And me being the little girl then, I didn’t know any better than to agree with every word he had said. He was a narcissist, often twisting words as quickly as it were for a snake to sink its fangs into one’s skin. Pressing on a game catered to teenagers, everyone in the room, including me, was interrupted by a woman standing proud wearing a suit before speaking. “Hello I’m Jessica, I’m just here to let you know that the coffee and snack bar is open for those of you that are still waiting to be seen. I can assure you that we are working as fast as we possibly can and thank you for your patience,” she said before turning on her heel and sauntering towards the elevator with her shoulders slumped. Just how hard was this job?
A nice cup of steaming coffee did sound pretty good right about now; it may even calm my nerves, and the best part was that it was free. So, being the first to stand up, I stepped towards the coffee and snack bar, and what I saw made shivers go up and down my spine in delight.
