Wishful Thinking

I never expected to see him again. I thought I had lost him for good. I thought I was free. But, I guess it was just wishful thinking. -(*warning* ~ suggested rating: 15+ - for sexual scenes, drug use, violence, language)-

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1. CH. 1

My eyes scanned through the closet, looking for my uniform for work. "If I don't find my uniform, Stacy will freak!" I mumbled to myself. Stacy was my boss. I worked at the town's diner, just a few blocks away from my apartment.

"Nope, nope, no- uh.. oh, nope, nope." I looked throughout my closet and found nothing. "Oh. My. Gosh." I mumbled. I sat on my bed with my head in my hands. I looked over to the clock hanging on the wall. "30 minutes." I sighed. "Until I need to get to work." I scanned over my room one more time, before I would head to the living room.

No uniform insight, until I looked over near the window looking out over some of the close neighborhoods. There was a woven wooden basket, full of clothes.

I opened the lid and found my uniform. "Please be clean." I thought. I picked up the shirt and smelt it. It smelt like laundry detergent. "Oh thank god." I said and pulled out the black pants. I slid out of my pajamas and put on my uniform before brushing my hair and teeth in the bathroom.

"Phone, wallet, nametag, key.." I named off the things. I had everything I needed and walked out the door, and locked it. I jogged down the stairs to the lobby.

I opened the door and the tiny bell above rang. "Mornin' Emma." Angie, the owner of the apartment, said. "Good morning, Angie." I said, grabbing a foam cup and filling it with coffee. "Sleep well?" She asked. Which she also asks every other morning. "Yes, Angie." I got a few sugar cubes out of the container along with milk. The coffee stopped brewing and I added the milk and sugar. "Have a nice day." She said. "Thanks, Angie!" I replied, as I was walking out of the door.

I headed down the road to the diner, taking small sips of the coffee. I looked up at the sky. A few grey clouds here and there, but what got my attention was that the sky was darker than usual. I went to tighten my jacket, but I didn't grab it. "Damn." I whispered. I shivered. a bit as I continued walking in the silent town.

I arrived at the diner a few minutes early, but at least I have more time to get ready. I washed my hands, tied on my apron, and put up my hair, as I was required.

The first costumer of the day came in as I walked up to the podium. "Hello, sir!" I said. "Hello." He said. A smile sat on his wrinkly lips as he waited to be seated. I grabbed a menu and walked him to a table.

"Do you mind, if I sat at a booth?" He asked. "Oh, of course. Which one would you like?" I asked. He walked over to the one in the corner, where the blinds of the window were broken, and a single light dangled above him. I wasn't sure why he chose to sit there, not many people like to.

"My wife and I came here for our first date when we were teenagers. We sat at this exact spot." He smiled.

I smiled in return. I handed him his menu. "Can I start you off with a drink?" I asked him. "Um, I'll have a sweet tea." He said. "I'll be right back with that." I said.

I returned with his drink, and he told me all that he wanted to order.

"Would that be all?" I asked, sketching down the order into the notebook.
"Um, actually I think I'll try the apple pie, as well." The elderly man said, scanning over the menu.
"Alright, I will be right out with your order." I said, before walking back to the diner's kitchen...
I came back out with the sir's food. "Here you go, sir." I said, placing the plate down. "Oh, thank you." He tucked a napkin into the collar of his shirt.
"Enjoy!" I said. "Oh, I will!" He said happily. I smiled back and went to the front to serve, yet another, customer that had came in at such an early time in the morning.

This one was much younger. Early 20's. He looked familiar. It took a moment before I recognized him, though I wish I hadn't.
I never expected to see him again. I thought I had lost him for good. I thought I was free.
But, I guess it was just wishful thinking.

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