icantwritebutliketothinkican

[icantwritebutliketothinkican]

Part one.

A/N: Hello this is something I’ve been working on. I’m new and awful at English so sorry if it’s a mess, it’s more a draft. 

To me, there was nothing worse than waking up in the morning. I wish I was trying to be dramatic but for me, I wish I never did. A part of me wanted my covers to swallow me up in the night so all my bills, my responsibilities, and… well; my damn shitty life would disappear right there and then. No, I’m not a teen going through an emo phase, whose parents are trying to normalise them as I sob over the death of my chemical romance; I’m 21. Legally an adult but barely adulating. It’s not that I was still living with my parents, having them clean, and cook and pay bills for me. I lived by myself in a little flat on the edge of our town. Now this area is the kind of area you expect most college graduates and their partners to get their first place, or where single middle age people live to research their prime and for the easy access straight to the city. I wasn’t one of them. I was single, not middle aged, didn’t have a great job and didn’t graduate college. I worked at a little coffee shop by the train station, serving whipped soya lattes with a sprinkle of ground cinnamon onto them for the usually middle class people who lived in this shit town for the easy commute to the city. It almost seemed like no one wanted to stay here, which we didn’t. But it was safe, so people wanted to bring up families here, not too far a drive/ train drive to the city making jobs more accessible and it seemed like your perfect, normal, suburban town full of the typical middle class families you see on cornflakes adverts.

Now back to me.

If you can’t tell I’m not one of those perfect middle class people. As I said, I’m a single, 21-year-old college drop out. And I hate mornings.

5am was not a normal time for any human to be awake at. Especially me. I almost believed I resembled a sloth before around noon as I’d be so slow and uncoordinated. The daily drag of getting myself washed and dressed and fed almost seemed too much for me to handle. But I managed to do it, and to run to work just to clock in a minuet before I would be classed as late. I’d been given a few too many warning at work for my lateness for me to be comfortable with. As much as hated this job, with the constant stench of coffee, snobby customers and having to leave the house before the sun rises, it paid my bills. The familiar clang of bell went in as I entered, showing me that either Justin or Drew was already here. Justin was my boss, around mid-30’s and like most people in the neighbourhood had kids and a little terraced house for his kids, whilst Justin was a year older than me, straight out of college with a major in history which he had no idea what to do with. Luckily, for me at least, it was Justin. He was a little more chill about my tardiness and my awful appearance than Drew. After the three months of him being here, he knew the best way to get me in a good mood was to have a black coffee on the counter as I walked through the door, and he did. It was a little cold, probably due to the fact I was a minute or two late but it was strong caffeine which is exactly what I needed right now. I threw my bag in the back and pulled on my apron before sitting down on the stool behind the counter and sipping my coffee.

               “rough morning huh?” He asked as he leant on the counter ready for the weekday morning rush. I nod in reply a slight sigh escaping from my lips.

               “You have no idea how much I hate anything in the mornings” I grumbled almost, like a bear just being awoken from his long winter sleep. I think in a past life I must have been a woodland creature, not one that just hibernates all through winter but one who hibernated all year round beside to get pizza from the delivery guy. Drew let out a laugh, like my hate for mornings and my constant state of ugliness was purely for his and our customers humour. I just had enough energy for a simple eye roll before sipping on my coffee again, hoping the caffeine from it would give me a new lease of life I had yet to find out.

Just as I had finished my coffee the first customer of the usual weekday morning rush came, with people commuting needing their daily caffeine to wake them up ready for another day. We’d see the same people nearly every day, some new, some old that haven’t been stopped here in a while. Whilst Drew did the talking, I did the making; believe me, no one wanted to talk to me when I was still this tired. He knew some customers by name now and their daily orders meaning they got their coffees quicker as we had remembered it off by heart by now. There were also the assholes, one who took out their divorce and shitty working hours on us by telling us how they would be late to work. The same weekday morning as always, and the rush passed by in two hours, when by that point we were exhausted, taking in more money in those two hours then we both earned in a week combined. I hated this job for that reason. It’s almost belittling seeing people who earn more money than you yelling at you for their wake me up, whilst working for a man in a suit you’ve never seen. A CEO of a multibillion dollar industry who probably couldn’t care less about the lowly workers that serve his awful coffee every day. But he paid my bills and that’s all I needed right now.

Each morning making the coffees left me to my thoughts. over a year of making smoked-blueberry-frozen-crème-white-hazelnut-coffees meant they came as second nature to me, like procedural memory psychology would say. Every morning would have the same thoughts, that there was more to life than this, a stupid job which you just do to pay the bills to pay for a flat you only shared with the vodka and wine bottles that you have drunk when your friend had been over the other day. There had to be a life outside of the small stupid town with its commercial family house with basic families living the basic suburban family life. There had to be. I refused to believe that this was it. Not for me at least.

Drew could almost sense that every morning after the rush, even though I finally awake and semi-functional, that my head was in a different place. But as a co-worker, who didn’t care for me more than having small talk about foul customers and having a decent time at work, he never asked what I thought. And I’m glad he didn’t. I knew part of the reason he moved back to this town after college was to live the ideal suburban dream; and I didn’t want to be the bird that shit on his dream. Each to their own I guess, if that’s the life he wants to live so be it, but to me it seems nothing more than repetitive. He sends me a quick smile as I move from the station to the counter, looking over at the empty coffee house. I was empty now as people weren’t usually up and around this time. Drew took this opportunity to look at his phone, to see what his stalker girlfriend had said to him. Over our many small talk conversations, I had learnt enough about his girlfriend to conclude she isn’t my favourite person, without even meeting her.  Drew had told me how they met at his college in freshman year and how they were the “lightbulb” couple on campus. Even though they were constantly taking breaks and arguing, every shift she would be texting him over and over, asking who he was with, when they would next see each other, and other texts you get of your clingy, jealous, girlfriend. A small sigh passed drew lips as soon as his eyes reached the screen, signalling to me that it was her.

               “Maybe you should call it quits forever with her, you know. You don’t seem happy every time the phone flashes her name” I say to him as I make myself another coffee. He sighs again before running his hand through his hair.

               “I wish I would, but she has this plan in her life that she’d marry her college boyfriend and settle down with them and have kids. But she lives in another state; it’s hard to keep it going.” The words were barely audible with how quiet he was, almost ashamed that he couldn’t call it quits with a girl he didn’t love. He cared for her don’t get me wrong, otherwise he wouldn’t worry about her life plans. But anyone could see, as soon as you mentioned his girlfriend that his face dropped. I did feel bad for the kid. From an overview, he seemed like the kind of kid you would want; a college graduate, currently working until he finds what he wants to do with a girlfriend who wants to marry him. But it was all superficial. He wasn’t happy with his life, everyone knew it. But he put on the fake smile and pretended like this was the good old American dream. He coughed almost to direct the subject away from his crazy love life. “How about your love life? Have you finally found the love of your life?” He said it through a smirk knowing my answer.

I was perpetually single, and everyone knew it. I hadn’t always been. I wasn’t that much of a troll. I had a boyfriend in college, but I had never spoken to anyone about it. The only people who knew were my mom and my friend Alice. They’re all who needed to know about that ass. But now I was a very single pansexual woman. I also didn’t believe in love that much or soulmates. This isn’t a cheesy story line of how I met that dashing person who flipped my world upside down and I feel madly and deeply in love with, hell no. That would be caked in lies. I also didn’t think marriage was everything, unlike nearly everyone else in this town. I chuckle at Drew slightly and shake my head, “Of course not, that would mean travelling further from my flat to this place everyday” I laugh off is question. He laughs with me at my blunt remarks, knowing that I’m just being honest with him. Although we weren’t friends as such and more co-workers we understood each other. He knew I didn’t go out often and that I was a college dropout but he never pried upon me to tell him such finer details. Like I didn’t pry upon him to tell me everything. It was a healthy co-worker relationship.

After maybe a few more hours of small talk and some people coming in, Drew had left his shift for an interview he had. He really wanted this suburban life so was applying for a job at the museum to do tours on the social history section which is what he loved the most about history. I had half an hour by myself until we had the lunch rush where more people would come into work. I didn’t really speak to many other beside Drew at work; mainly because Drew saw me every morning day in, day out at an unbearable time, whilst the other workers sent an occasional two-hour slot with me before I headed home. The lunch rush came and went and with that I left around 3pm every day, just before school was let out meaning there wasn’t too many people out and about, which I preferred to walking in business, meant less human contact which I was 100% okay with.

As I got in I threw my bag and coat on the hook and went to my kitchen to get my leftover pizza from last night. I say kitchen but it was more a kitchen area as the flat only had three rooms; Bathroom, bedroom and the giant open space which was for the kitchen area and living area. There could have been worse places to live than this tiny flat but for me it was just a home. It was slightly messy all the time with vodka and wine bottle sprawling the tables, and a bookshelf with too many books on below the corner that was blackening due to mould. The hot water didn’t always work meaning I had to have cold 5am showers, but for me right now it was my space. As I at my pizza on the alcohol stained couch, I saw the light flash up on my home phone, showing I head a message. Groaning, I moved to press the button to play the recordings out loud. The first was on my friend Alice.

“Hey B, I know you’ve missed me in the two days that you haven’t seen me so I was wondering if you wanted to hang out at mine on Friday and maybe see this band down town? Text me if you do, love you don’t miss me again.” Alice was what I considered my best friend. I’d know her since I was 14 and she was the only person who I really saw outside of work. She was my only friend really which is why I considered her my best friend. She loved leaving the house a lot more than me and had a small circle of friends that she went to bars with and went shopping with but she’d always make time for wine nights with me and occasionally drag me out of bed to go out with her. Which is why she wanted me to go to this gig with her, mainly because she knew I wouldn’t complain about who it was and because she tried to get me to leave the house at least once a month.  Before replying to Alice I listened to the other message I had. This one didn’t make me smile as much.

“Hey sweetie, its mom. I’m just checking in to see how life is back home. Me and Greg are going away to Croatia so if you want to contact me use my mobile. I hope Alice is well and that you’re both well and healthy” A sigh came from the message, “It’s been nearly a year now Isabelle. I know this is hard but I think you should think about going back to college, or at least getting an internship in a company. Get a proper job instead of working at that darn coffee shop your entire life. You’ve always said how much you hated that town yet you’ve lived there since you were little and not made any plans to leave. Do something Isa. Find someone to settle down with and have a happy life. It’s been a year, move on. Love you” Her voice became colder neared the end, more stern, like a mother telling off their five-year-old. You could say I wasn’t the ideal child to my mother, which was a shame as I was her only one. She wanted the kid to live this suburban dream, and yes, she wanted me to fulfil my own dreams and wishes to leave this shitty town, I knew she just wanted me to be like her. Get married, have kids, have a good life. But the last thing I wanted was to be like my mother. She currently had no job and was living of her boyfriend’s money. Greg was her boyfriend as also had three ex-wives and 3 daughters, none of whom I’d met or cared for greatly. I didn’t care for Greg either. He tried buying my love with stupid gifts such as iPads and a laptop, which where cool to have but to me he was nothing more than my mother’s lover. It’s not even like I had to seem them all that often as my mother had moved states to live in his mansion, leaving in this flat. I used to live with my mum until then. When I came home from college in the breaks there was our house, but as soon as she got with Greg, she sold the house and expected me to pack up and move across the country to live with a man I had met once. So, I started renting this flat, bring furniture from my old home that hadn’t been sold at a flea market or tossed out when I decided to move. I hadn’t really seen or spoken to my mother since. Sure, she called me, a lot, and left voice mails but I never really replied. Trying to forget my mum ever phoned I sent Alice a text saying I was down for Friday night, before switching on the TV.

That was a typical day for me. I worked, came home, ate and watched TV when drinking away the sorrows of my sad life. There’s more that goes on in my head and my past that you may want to know, like what happened nearly a year ago, and about my ass of an ex. But that comes in time.