Beyond what meets the eye

The mind of a hating, anxious, desperate and depressed young woman is quite strange, but it's also one of the most beautifully disturbing and complicated things in the world. There's barely any limit to the things she'll say or think, but where's the limit to what she'll do and how far she'll get?


2. Family

I’m running around in the apartment with a white, dirty towel wrapped around my head.
Trying to find my keys; quite strange since there are barely any furniture.  
I have to go to work.
Sadly I can’t call in sick today since it’s my first week there. I work full time at a club not far from my apartment.
Found them.
I run to the door, throw the towel on the floor, and proceed to close and lock the brown and obviously old door. It squeaks. I run down the stairs and almost trip over my own feet.
 As I run outside I pass two parents both holding their young, laughing daughter’s hands. It makes me think about my own family and how much I’ve always wanted that.
Neither of my parents ever really cared about me. It didn’t really matter to me since I’ve never thought there was any need for other people to care.
I hate when other people get into my business, so I’m glad they didn’t interfere with anything.
The only thing I really wanted from them was a bit of love or at least just appreciation. I mean I actually worked really hard in school and got good grades, but my teachers were the only ones to appreciate it.
I never felt good around people, so school kind of reminded me of hell. I didn’t like any of my classmates – they kind of hated me.
When I got bullied for being the skinny and weird kid my parents didn’t say anything; not even the day I got a broken nose and blood all over my face – they simply didn’t care.
The only time my mom ever cared, was when she needed me to do something for her. But I was okay with that. At least she’d want to look at me for a second. At least pretend for a minute or two.
My dad only looked my way when he was drunk.
He’d get easily pissed then, and of course he needed to let go of that anger. I got scarred in more than one way when that happened.

I get distracted by the memories and thoughts.
I almost trip.
Only then I feel my heart beating fast. The sweat is running across my face. My legs are starting to give in. I’m not sure it’s because I’m scared or tired.
Either way I decide to slow down since I’m almost at the bar.
It’s 2.28P.M, I have to be there in two minutes. Luckily I can see the old building. I hear the drunken people yelling and the loud tunes of the classic rock bands they always play there.
Did I mention that it’s a strip-club I work at? I like to just call it a club. It’s more or less the same, right? 


I walk through the backdoor and put on my uniform.
At the time I work as a waiter, which kind of sucks because my working uniform is more or less just underwear. People don’t care about the scar, as long as I’m just close to having a female body. It’s all that matters.
 I’ve been told to drop the top if that’s possible – DECLINED!
Maybe I don’t care what people think, but being half naked is not exactly my favorite thing in the world.

As soon as I step outside of the dressing room everyone apparently feel the need to grab my ass.
It’s just about the most annoying thing ever, but I have to put up with it if I want to keep my job.
I need the money to pay for my… Medicine.
It’s been very expensive lately. Not sure if it’s because my use increased.
All I know is that it’s not getting me as high as the price anymore, if you know what I mean.

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