Chapter Text
Growing up you learned how to be quiet, how to avoid problems and not bother people with your own issues nobody really cared about. Adults always praised you for it, they said you were an easy child.
Now that you’re older, no one acknowledges your positive traits like they used to. You understand it though, people now are expected to behave that way, but now it feels wrong, now you don’t have anything special to stand out.
You dropped off college when you realized it wasn’t for you. Living with your parents at 20 years old isn’t as pathetic as you used to think back when you were a teenager, it just feels like you’re missing out on your first and ‘incredible’ first years being an adult.
As you were scrolling through your phone, you came across various low wage jobs that probably wouldn’t even let you buy groceries for a week. Not in this economy.
Shitty jobs stared back at you, but one of them stood up. You clicked on it, expecting to see the perfect opportunity to prove yourself. It was a babysitting job, nothing too difficult to do. You were good with children, patient, you could do basic chores and change diapers. Maybe your parental skills finally paid off after just receiving compliments for it.
When you clicked on it and checked all the info, you contacted the parents and, thankfully, they wouldn’t turn you down because of your lack of experience. You had to start somewhere anyway.
Sending the message, you let out a contented and satisfied sigh, you were finally doing something with your life, giving it a sense of independence that you certainly needed, especially when your phone died and the once bright screen turned black, making you stare back at your of miserable reflection, pronounced eyebags under your eyes that screamed a lack of good sleep schedule. It was certainly not charming to see.
Before you could scare yourself with your own image, you searched for your phone’s charger. It is strange how such a thing can disappear in the blink of an eye, but well, you did have a family that would steal it from your room and then deny taking it to make you feel crazy.
It happened exactly a day later, you woke up, sheets tangled in your legs, hair messy like crazy, mascara that never truly washed off from yesterday clinging to your eyes. It was 11.23AM and the first thing you did before really waking up was grabbing your phone. There was an email.
“Regarding the babysitter job offer,
Thank you very much for your interest in the position. Unfortunately, I must inform you that another candidate has already been accepted. We appreciate your patience and continued interest, and we will keep your contact saved in case of an emergency with the current nanny.
Sincerely, ████”
Oh, that was awkward.
“Fucking hell” you groaned, another chance missed just because someone was quicker or more capable than you. Just great.
Sitting up on your unmade bed, you blinked a few times to gain some consciousness before starting with your day and passed your fingers through your hair to brush them off your face, making your fingers tangle in the mess. You hissed when you tried to untangle them.
Walking downstairs still in your pajamas —comfy pajama shorts with a matching short-sleeved shirt— and made your way to the kitchen which seemed to be already occupied by your mother. Her stern resting face focused on her task: making breakfast.
Maybe it was the way she looked, maybe it was the way you already knew how she acted whenever you talked with her, either way, conversing with your mom was uncomfortable, displeasing. A tense atmosphere none of you ever discussed, but it was there.
With awkwardness, you approached the kitchen and mumbled a simple “good morning” which she responded. Now, you moved from cabinet to cabinet in search of a bowl and the cereals you always preferred, cookie crisps. A childish option, yeah, but it was undeniable how delicious they were.
“Do me a favour and go buy me some milk, will you?” She asked, still too focused on cracking each egg perfectly to even look at you while asking.
“Yeah, sure, just give me a second” came your response, pouring the milk over the cereals after choosing the clean spoon from the cabinet filled with weird-looked stained spoons. She paid you no mind and you began to eat, staring at the wall with a profound sense of detachment even in your own home. It all seemed to be going downhill. And if you remember correctly, it all started with middle school.
Kids at school were rude, so incredibly rude and in their little bubble, only caring about looks and superficial personalities. You never really cared about those things, but when you started interacting with the popular kids at the start of 7th grade you realised you hated how boring they were, how performative and mindlessly they acted. Bullying was their first response with the so-called ‘weird kids’ and although you didn’t talk to every single one of them, you often watched them during break and they seemed very normal to you. They came in various forms, yet they shared the same nickname.
Middle school was like a heavy storm you couldn’t escape from because you were stuck waiting for it to cease in a grocery store. Highschool, on the other hand, wasn’t as horrible, but couldn’t be described as the calm after the storm either. Still, you survived both.
Finishing breakfast wasn’t difficult or slow, you didn’t even notice you had already finished the bowl, being in your thoughts too much seemed to consume part of your life, as your grandma would say. After drinking the rest of the milk directly from the bowl, you rose from your seat and washed the dirty dish and spoon before going upstairs to, at least, put some order in your appearance.
Leaving the store to start your journey to your house with a heavy bag with milk cartons wasn’t the best but it was an excuse to leave your home and not resemble a spoiled brat who wouldn’t help their parents and spent all day on their computer. You were close, but not quite it.
But just as you turned the corner you noticed something that you didn’t really pay attention to before: “help wanted” read the note plastered on the door. It felt like an angel had emerged from heaven to kiss your cheek and whisper sweet promises that were too good to be true. It was just a grocery store, yet it was what you needed.
You walked back inside, not even caring anymore about the heavy weight of the bag as you made your way to the cashier, a man in his 50’s who didn’t seem very joyous about being there.
With a thrilled smile you asked about the job “Hey again, uhm, I saw the poster on the door,” you began, pointing towards the door you just entered from and he followed your pointed finger “and i wanted to ask about applying.” you finished, staring deep into his eyes.
“Ah, sure,” the man replied. “Wait here.”
Just like that, the staff member left the cash register and moved towards a back door. You waited just as he asked you and, after a minute, he returned with a younger looking man dressed in comfortable but somehow formal clothes. He had a grin on his face that indicated that he was rather happy for the quick response for the poster.