"UGH!" I huffed, tossing the paper across the table. The torn envelope lay at my feet, crumpled and forgotten as I sat in the stiff wooden dining chair. Tears finally reached my eyes as the heart wrenching sob took over my rib and chest, constricting and painful before I collapsed over the table. My arms lay out on the stable wood, the tears pooling under my head as my forehead banged restlessly on the tabletop. Another failed university application.
I felt lost, I felt like my world was shrinking. That was four places, my only four places that I didn't have to move state to go to. I could feel my body shivering from the onslaught of emotions overtaking my body. I lifted my head and pushed my palms into my eyes, taking three deep breaths. By the third my body had stopped shaking and the tears had slowed. Standing, I scooping up both the paper and the envelope and threw them in the bin as I walked out the small kitchen into the hall/walkway. I stopped before my bedroom door, looking at the mirror hung on the wall beside it. My eyes were the greatest and worst thing about my appearance, great because they were big and framed with naturally curled long lashes, bad because of their colour. They were brown; but not just brown, brown with orange around the pupil. The colour often made me cringe. As for my hair, I couldn't waste any money on a real hairdresser so I just let me friend do it, she was good enough to cut it so what the hell. The left side of my hair was significantly shorter, and curled and flicked at my jawline, tousled naturally. Where as my right side went a bit lower and flicked out around my face and framed it nicely. My fringe swept to my right side and evened out my appearance. Currently my eyes were puffy, and my small upturned nose was blotched with red. My normally cheeky pink lips were down turned at the sides in a small frown. I sighed and walked into my small room plonking myself down on my bed. My hand grabbed my phone from the charger on the beside table and hit speed dial two, brrr.... Brrr....
"Hello?" chimed Sarah's voice, my heart melted immediately and my shoulders sunk as the tension swept from my body.
"Hi," my voice shook slightly as I clasped the phone to my ear with a shaky smile.
"Hey babe, what's up?" I could hear the slight crash of pots and pans in the background and knew she was baking again, she was a whizz at cooking especially decorating cupcakes and cakes. My tummy growled in thought of her cakes and I sighed.
"UQ Declined my application," I could hear my voice quaver and bit my lip to stop fresh tears.
All noise in the background stopped, and all I heard was Sarah's intake of breath,"Need me to come over?"
Yeah, that was just what I needed; my gorgeous straight friend to come over and curl against my body as we did when I was hurt. No. Not this time. I needed to stop pining after her. Pining and wallowing in self pity does nothing. My mind clouded with images of her wavy blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes, her thin body and large breasts, and her infectious perfect white smile. I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head.
"Nah, babe. I'll be okay, you know me. Strong as steel."
"Not everyone can be okay all the time, Felicity."
"I know, but this is just a small bump in the road, I'll figure it out,"
"O..okay babe, let me know if you need anything. Anything at all," I heard her soft giggle and a muffled male voice in the background followed by a squeal.
"Gotta go, bye!" she said breathlessly, followed by the dial tone.
My hand gripped my phone hard as I laid on the bed and gritted my teeth. I briefly considered throwing it at the wall but I swallowed my anger. My fingers slowly released my phone onto the bed. Sarah can date whoever she wants. And I need to stop falling for the straight ones, even if we did drunkly kiss once. I looked around my small apartment bedroom, the door on opposite the bed lead into the hall and directly across to the small entertainment area/study/living room. The room had a small tv and couch in the middle of it, and behind the tv sat a half full bookshelf against the wall. On the far side of the lounge room sat my desk and laptop, covered in books and papers. My apartment was small, but it was enough. I had my bedroom and my kitchen that was hardly used. It was homely to me, I didn't need much to live.
I spent most of my time in the study reading or watching animated Japanese movies, occasionally even drawing. I'm not the best but I am a natural at judging curves and shapes, which is a main factor of art. My dad is an artist and I know he wanted me to follow his footsteps, but all I've ever wanted to do was help people. Since I could think of a serious career all I wanted to do was be a surgeon. But as high school ended reality dawned on me that I had needed to study more for that, and I just wasn't a studier. It was hard to keep my thoughts together enough to sit and study. Speaking of which, I swung my legs off the bed and headed for the small en suite bathroom. I opened the mirrored cabinet above the small sink and grabbed the bottle of pills, shaking two into my hand and putting them in my mouth.
I dropped the pill bottle back in its spot and almost slammed the mirror back. I grabbed each side of the sink and took deep breaths, my head lowered. The pills do little to help my bipolar disorder, but my mum said it was for the best. They kept me neutral and I hated feeling like my emotions had a black blanket smothering them down. My passion and life was snuffed out on pills, but at least I didn't fly off the handle all the time. I walked to the toilet and spat the pills in, flushing them. To hell with it. I have ways to control myself without feeling so empty and void.
I walked out of the room as my phone alarm buzzed, I sighed thinking "Just perfect." I returned to the bathroom and donned my work uniform that was hanging on the shower stall. I ran a brush through my hair and slipped on the visor we had to wear. SAMS SANDWICHES was written in blazing orange and red over the visor band and under my left breast on the black shirt. I straightened my black skirt and pulled on my faded black converse shoes as I gathered my bag and phone. My boss, Sam, was a douchebag and "didn't tolerate lateness". As it was, I was always determined to be ten minutes early anyway, only living down the block. I walked with my iPod up loud, the music numbing my wild emotions. I sighed and closed my eyes, and allowed my body to finally relax. Music was my vice, it allowed me to return to normal and calm. I hummed along to "Lucy in the sky with diamonds" my feet stomping on the footpath in rhythm with my song.
I turned off my iPod and slipped inside my workplace, tucking it into my bag as I walked past the counter and waved at Drew, my co worker. Drew was, if I was attracted to men, a woman's wet dream. He had short tousled brown hair, piercing green eyes and a naturally tanned and muscles body. He knew the affect he had on women and usually abused it unashamedly when flirting with customers. I waved to my boss through the office window as I stepped out the back. He gave me a stern smile, holding the phone to his ear. I rolled my eyes and went to my locker, tucking away my bag. Grabbing my time sheet I fed it through the machine to clock on. I adjusted my hair once more before walking out the door and behind the counter with Drew. My routine began with checking all the ingredients in the salad bay as Drew prattled to me about his "adventurous" weekend party, where he undoubtedly slept with many women. He was only 19 like me, but very much aware of his sexual allure. I shook my head and suppressed a grin at his antics.
"Drew, honestly, do you ever think with your brain and not with your pants?" I sighed, allowing him a cheeky smile.
"Would you like to see what my pants think of you, Fee?" He grinned, leaning back against the drink fridge.
"Ha ha," I said, lifting my head as the door chimed for customers.
A flock of giggly tanned girls walked to the sandwich bar and I smiled to them, stepping back before Drew swept me off my feet in his eagerness. I followed after him, making two sandwiches as he made two, and flirted with the customers. I actually don't mind him doing this as much as I give him shit about it. It allows me to do my job without having to talk to anyone. I wrapped my two sandwiches and handed them to the bimbos as Drew rung up the order and got a phone number out of it. The giggly girls left and I just shook my head at him. He had his shit eating grin on his face, thinking he had won something special.
