Make a Wish

Amy and Steve have been inseparable since college, and are desperate to open up their own designer studio. However, they face problems that make their dream seem so far away and out of reach. Will they overcome these obstacles and fulfil their dream?
Instead of showing the problems they might face during business, I have decided to write a series of short chapters based on how they got there and what they went through to reach their dream.
-My entry into the Beat Girl: Fan Fiction competition :)

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2. I Clearly Don't Have Wings...

Okay, so maybe this was a bigger problem than I had first thought. 

I worked as a waitress in a small cafe in town whilst I was in college. I had saved most of the money I earned to pay for the studio we were going to buy in a couple of weeks time. My mother, thinking I could handle the stress of bills, bought me a small flat near my college. She refused to help pay the bills. She had told me that if I wanted independence, then I would have to work for it.

Instead of using the money for the studio to pay for the bills, I borrowed money from the bank. At first, I didn't see it as a problem, I thought that once I opened the studio, and business started to boom, I'd be able to pay it back with no problems. But borrowing money is like a drug, it's addictive. Once you start, you always find reasons to ask for more, one loan is never enough.

So the thing is, I've borrowed masses of money, none of which I have paid back, and don't know how to get rid of the debt collector at the door. He knows I'm home, the old lady next door probably ratted me out. She doesn't like me very much, she thinks I'm living in a fantasy.

Nervously, I tapped my hands on my thighs, trying to think up a plan to get me out of this mess. After long, tedious moments of thinking and repeated knocks at the door, I had come to the conclusion that I would either have to hand over my money for the studio, or launch myself out the window and plummet to a messy death. I don't think the old lady would appreciate the view of my splattered brain when she looks out her window.

I grabbed a can of Red Bull from the fridge, popped the top and downed it. Red Bull gives you wings, I thought, remembering the logo. It was time to test the theory. 

Standing in front of the window that overlooked the town square, I saw many people rushing about, wandering in and out of shops, tugging their children along, heaving heavy bags of groceries, the lot. 

I gripped the windowsill. All I had to do was throw myself out, and beautiful wings would sprout from my spine and the people would gaze up at me in awe.

Who was I kidding? We all knew that the logo was a metaphor. Or just a sinister joke to get people to try to kill themselves. Either way, it meant I would die if I tried. 

I sighed and stepped back from the window. That left me with only one option. 

The metal safe across the room, gleamed under the sunlight that beamed through the window. 

"Amy Saunders!" The debt collector bellowed as he continued to bash his fist against the door. "I know you are in there!"

I could feel my heart sinking, I knew what I had to do. It was inevitable. I couldn't avoid the debt collector for ever. And I couldn't keep borrowing money. 

Slowly, as if I could slow down the inevitable, I walked towards the safe, and punched in the pin. The safe beeped, I turned the handle and pulled the door open.

Inside, were bundles of cash, enough to buy a relatively decent sized studio. Steve would be so mad if he found out I had been borrowing money I couldn't afford to pay back. He would probably demote me to nemesis. 

My eyes stung, my dream had been so close, so close I could reach it with my hands. Now it felt like it was slipping, floating away. So, so far away...

The tears began to fall from my eyes, it felt like I was disappointing my mother. I found that I wasn't crying for the money, but for her. I wish she could hold me and tell me it would be okay. But she had died not long after I moved out. She never told me she had been diagnosed with cancer. She didn't want to worry me. The worst part was, I wasn't with her. I was off chasing some stupid dream.

This only made me angry, and so desperate to get rid of the money. I had been so obsessed with buying a studio, that I had forgotten about my own mother.

I grabbed the money, flung open the front door and threw the money at the debt collector.

I didn't give him a chance to say anything, I slammed the door in his face.

My heart was pounding, tears falling.

I leaned against the door, sliding down it until I was a heap on the floor.

I'd do anything to have her here with me, stroking my hair, telling me it would be fine.

My mother is in heaven, and the stars would shine brighter tonight.

 

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