illed with cotton wool and the methylated spirit back into a small box. She carri

e customer, and she yelled, scattering the bed even more. She closed her eyes—something she does whenever she felt tensed—to calm he

ly does. She was worried, not about the customer's well-being, but her job. Her job was at risk now, because the customer might report her to the authority for

e she had nothing else to rely on and if she could

f in the mirror. Her hands subconsciously moved to her black long hair as she traced its edges down to her neck. She could not help but stare at her own eyes—somet

onstantly sing the first two lines o

some time. Can't stop sta

ia everyone knew. Despite her parents' lack of wealth, one thing she was always thankful for was that she

lf ever since. The loud ring of her phone brought her back to reality. She hurried to h

She spo

voice, and somehow, she could already tell who it was and why the person had called. Her

office right away. Oh, and you should also know he hate

opped her phone on her bed. Her palms had become sweaty by now, so she tried to clean them with her top. Her heart h

stood up to get herself dressed and hurriedly left for the director's office, but

"Good day. Uhm, I got a call earlie

id to her. She immediately recognized the voice as the one she heard over the phone some minutes back. On her tab

ed nervously as she rubbed h

en picked up the telephone on her table and dialled a

sir." She ended the call and placed the telephone

t way." She pointed

ing as she took every step closer to the door. When she got to the front of the door, she paused. She

sighed for the last time before pushing the door open. She walked in and closed the door be

could stand by my door to make

the director's face. It was either her vision was blurry due to her anxiety, or she was imagining things. But as she walked closer and closer, she realized that her eyes were not dec

evidence to make her completely sure that it was him. She dragged one of the chairs opposite his table forward and sat on it, facing him. He did not spare her another glance though, as his attention seemed

er, placing the paper he had bent to take from the stool, on his table. She noticed the tattoos on his hands

to his eyes, looking to see if he would also remember her. It is dim, she

accepted the job..." As he spoke, her eyes drifted to the name tag on the table—Christopher Ken

effortlessly. Scarlet, who heard what he had just said clearly, and was supposed to defend herself by letting him know he had tried to harass her, sat there staring at him. She could not help but

nt her anger on him, and ask the questions she had wanted to as

ou to pack your bags and leave and you're still s

idn'

firmly as he pushed the paper in fr

t were the words; 'sack letter'. She swallo