Throughout her life, Maris came to understand how dangerous it was to be around her. She had always felt fragile and weak, yet simultaneously indestructible. That feeling of fortitude would soon crumble.
She had just celebrated her 19th birthday, and was legally required to find a job. Every adult citizen in Port Noth was to hand over their documents and would be given employment based on their kind, their skills, their schooling. She had never done any good in her years of standardized learning and had avoided any plans for the future like the plague. So she had been instructed to visit the local occupational office. She had been once before, only to have forgotten her paperwork and have to do the journey by herself all over again. This time she had significantly less patience, if any before.
The building was tall and dreary and full of clicking typewriters and the smell of cigarettes. In the waiting room, people of all weirdnesses were sat fidgeting away. A giant was squished in his seat - or rather a seat and a half - tapping his fingers. A woman with stacks of jewelry and a purple tint to her skin was biting anxiously away at her fingernails.
"Maris.. andee?"
She stepped up to the desk and came face to face with a snooty faced woman wearing oval spectacles, and a name tag reading 'Hortense' on her plum blouse. She definitely looked tense, Maris thought to herself.
"Oh. It's you again," Hortense said plainly and disappointedly, only just looking up from the typewriter in front of her. "Have you brought your papers?"
Maris reached down into her bag and pulled out a crumbled heap of parchment. "You see.. Hortense.. I never knew my parents, and have no record of my birth. Not to pity you, Hortense. I do tell you I am more than qualified, miss." The papers definitely showed it, despite their crumpled state. Forgery was something she dabbled in, something she felt she had to dabble in, but keeping her documents neat was not.
Hortense looked at the papers, then at Maris, then back towards her typewriter. "You can't be serious."
"Oh, but I am.." Maris's tone was already shifting to frustration. She flattened the papers and pushed them further on to the desk. Hortense reached out an elegant, red nailed hand and slid the papers into her draw.
"Alright. Come back in a week's time, you may have some offers. Who knows.. only the most powerful witches have red hair like that." Maris had turned already and was furiously making her way to the exit when she stopped, puzzled at her reply. "Shame it's wasted on a scamp like yourself."
"Huh?"
"You heard me, girl. Don't flatter yourself."
The insulting remarks cut her deep, the confusion she felt only increased her anger. She felt as though Hortense was claiming to know more about her than her own self. She felt locked out of a big secret that involved her directly.
Maris stompted out of the building and ducked behind the side. A kick forced its way out of her into the wall. The bricks shifted drastically, leaving an indent and threatening the structure of all of them. For a reason unbeknownst to her, she had never thought twice about the ease of destruction she carried with her, but was now contemplating how odd it was that she had maintained such a blind eye. Every time she tried to remember the things she had done, she became overwhelmingly distressed. It was as if her brain had gone blank, her memories erased. She was deeply ashamed of who she was. She felt fearful, and a stranger to herself. She was always running from her own questions, terrified she would someday find answers to them.
