The next morning, I wake up inside my car. I don't remember climbing back into the car or the stray even leaving. Maybe I was more intoxicated than I thought. The morning light burns my eyes, forcing me to squint while they adjust to the brightness.
Reaching for my phone, I peer at the screen. The battery is on three percent. The time is 7:30 am, I forgot to set my alarm. Luckily, my body clock didn’t fail me this morning. Getting out of the car, I breathe in the clear crisp morning air.
Closing my eyes, the last few day’s events come back to me like a bad dream. Only this time more painfully. I can still hear her last gasp, feel the life leave her body as her body turned cold in my grasp.
Pushing the memory aside, I shake my head trying to remove it completely. I don't want that imprinted in my mind. Nothing about it feels real, like it has happened to someone else. Only I can feel the pain of her loss, so I know it’s definitely my life that fell into tatters. Now I’m motherless as well as homeless and hopeless.
Two more years and I can have a normal life again, I can do this. Instead of dwelling on my shitty life, I get dressed. Tom doesn't need to see me like this. He already feels sorry for me, so I don't want him to feel worse for me. The last straw will be seeing the pity in his eyes, and I don't want to break down. I’m already a failure at this thing they call life. I don’t want to see my failures confirmed in someone else’s eyes. Especially someone I care about.
Getting undressed, I forget about the cut from the wire fence. I rip my camisole off, and along with it is the bloody gauze and the skin underneath I gasp at the sharp pain, resisting the urge to double over. I have bled through my rushed aid job and all over the lacy camisole. I must have bumped it in my drunken stupor scrambling into the car.
Reaching inside my vehicle, I grab more gauze and the bottle of vodka. Dousing the cloth in the liquid, I bite my lip before placing it over the wound. The profanities that leave my lips when the cloth brushes my skin would have made a sailor disgusted. This time, I clean it effectively. I don't want to deal with an infection on top of everything else, because I won't take off work to deal with it. I nearly make myself throw up or pass out from the intense burn. Maybe it is a mixture of both. But if I had a choice I would rather pass out.
Once the burning subsides, I redress the wound and slip on my navy skirt and blazer outfit I retrieved from the storage locker. The skirt nearly falls to my knees as soon as I button it up. Surely, I haven’t lost that much weight. I know I hardly eat but this is starting to get out of hand.
Reaching in, I grab my belt from yesterday and do it up, holding my skirt in place before shrugging into my blouse, with care this time, and pull my blazer over the top. Luckily, it covers the belt that doesn't match my outfit at all. I decide I look decent enough, but I won’t be able to remove my jacket today. Slipping my heels on, I quickly flip the visor down and do my make up. I look terrible and I’m not about to even risk just doing it in the bathroom today. My face is gray and drained of life. My eyes are exhausted, puffy, and have no light left in them, just dull orbs. By the time I’m done, Tom is walking up the ramp towards me, coffee in hand.
“Hey Tom,” I greet with a wave.
Tom smiles upon seeing me. “Ready early dear, hair and all.” He nods at my appearance. At least he thinks I’m doing better. I don't want him worrying about me.
I just nod. Yes, it’s a rarity that Tom doesn’t see me with my car head glory. He walks me to the elevator like every morning. It’s good listening to him tell me what Mary and himself got up to the night before. It makes me forget about everything. When it comes time to part ways, I’m actually sad to see him turn and leave because I know I’m going to be left with my own torturous mind. I've been distracted so far, but once I’m left alone I’m afraid of the darkness that will seep in.
Once I make it to the office, I turn everything on and get to work. Just before 9 am, I make the coffees for Theo and Tobias and have them waiting at my desk for when they enter. I busy myself with sending and replying to emails. When they step out of the elevator, they both stop and stare. For a second, I wonder if I forgot something or that maybe something is on my face, until they continue walking towards me.
“Good morning,” I chirp with a broad smile. They both raise an eyebrow at me, looking like twins. I nearly laugh. They clearly don’t think there’s anything to be cheery about this morning. Truthfully, there’s nothing joyful in my life at the moment. But hey, fake it till ya make it, right?
“Are you sure you should be here? We don’t expect you to work, Imogen.” Theo's voice is soft as he studies me with concern. I notice Tobias glance away, guilt stamped on his face. It kind of pisses me off. I don’t want their pity and sad, worried looks. It isn’t his business to tell what he has seen, even if he has only told Theo. It’s bad enough that I listened to this yesterday.
“Nope I’m good,” I say. My face goes blank. I don't want to talk about my mother, I want them both to drop it. Just treat me like they do every day. I need this job to survive until all the bills are handled.
“No, really Imogen, if you need some time off to organize funeral arrangements. We can manage on our own,” Theo tells me, repeating exactly what Tobias said yesterday.
“No, everything is fine. Funeral arrangements have already been organized,” I say, turning back to my computer. There won't be a funeral; I can't afford one. Instead, the hospital will have her cremated and notify me when I can pick the remains up. Of course, they will add it to the already never-ending hospital bill. Besides, where will I even go with time off? Go stare at all my junk in the storage locker? That won't make me feel any better, I'll only be lost in memories.
No, I need the distraction of work. Need something to do. But most of all, I need to be left alone about the matter. One thing I’m good at is hiding my emotions. I make sure never to rely on anyone, that way when they don’t come through or step up when I need them, I can't be disappointed. I’m already disappointed in myself. I don’t need the added disappointment of others.
“I have your schedules here and coffees,” I tell them, passing them everything they need before putting my head back down and ignoring them. They must have got the message because after a few tense seconds of feeling their eyes lingering, they both walk away into their offices. I sigh, relieved to be left to go about my work with hopefully no more mention of death and funerals. I shove my problems to the back of my mind. I throw myself into the tasks in front of me, focusing only on them.
When lunch time comes around, I know that means seeing Theo and Tobias, so instead of staying at my desk like I do most of the time, I duck down to my car. Sitting in my passenger seat, I recline my chair all the way. The sun feels nice and warm on my skin. There’s a slight breeze but not too chilly. My lunch break is an hour long.
Rummaging through the bag Sally gave me, I pull out the last protein bar. I quickly unwrap it and take a tiny bite. If I hadn’t been so damn hungry, I would have spat it out. The taste is terrible, like cookie dough but chewy and sugarless. The bar has nuts in it that are rock hard, and I’m surprised I don't break a tooth. Swallowing the last mouthful down, I try to rid the taste from my mouth by licking the back of my hand. Even that doesn’t help.
My teeth ache from constantly chewing, I have never eaten a protein bar that resembles nutty chewing gum. When I try and fail to remove the taste, I look at the bottle sitting on the floorboard of my car. Smirnoff Vodka, it’s one of the better tasting ones. Will it be inappropriate to have a mouthful while at work? It’s definitely inappropriate, I know that, but the taste is foul, and I also need the liquid courage to go back up there and pretend everything’s peachy.
Reaching over, I grab the bottle and twist the cap off. Bringing the bottle to my lips, I take two big mouthfuls and swallow them down, suddenly feeling the burn all the way to my stomach. Placing the cap back on, I sit back, only to find the watchful eyes of my new stray friend staring at me. He’s sitting directly in front of my car, looking through the windshield. Maybe it’s my imagination, but I swear he looks like he’s scolding me with that glare of his.