Rough Night ✓

i. vulsat

i.

v u l s a t

(n.) a union or a reunion after being apart for a long time with one's beloved

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I FELT AS a breath released itself from me as well as steam from the mug of coffee I held. The night was honestly too fast outside - which was where I needed to be right now - and I was scared that it would take me away before I could do anything to save myself from it. That's just how New York City was, and tonight was the night where an acclaimed opera was rolling into the Met. Many men and women were out on the sidewalks, wrapped in their evening coats, protecting themselves from the biting cold. The temperature had dropped about forty degrees from where it was ten hours ago, due to the volatile fall season this year, so while it took me a second to adjust to the sight of clutched tight coats, I quickly got over it.

I had been inside of Metro's Coffeehouse ever since five hours ago, trying to pay off my college tuition in avoidance of turning them into loans, meaning I hadn't been outside since I got up out of bed to crawl my way over here. It wasn't an ideal situation, but some things are too big to fight against. Even David had Goliaths that he couldn't topple. My insurmountable obstacle was the fact that I wasn't good enough to be anyone but myself, a lonely girl who worked weekends in a coffee shop so that she wasn't swallowed up by the money that I wouldn't be able to pay otherwise. Of course, there would always be someone or something whose mercy I would be at, but the prospect of making my own money was an anchor strong enough to hold me before I was completely done in by the water.

It had been one of those days that dragged on as if the ending of it didn't exist. You couldn't end things without a beginning and that logic applied in this case, especially when the door opened and a familiar brown-haired bastard stepped through. However some details of him were unfamiliar, like the expensive looking dress coat he wore and the designer knit hat he had pushed over his curls.

"Effie," he said in acknowledgment of me before adding a curt nod and making his way to the refrigerator and plucking one of the blended drinks from the shelf and making his way over to me. "How are you these days? It's been long, really long."

"Long since what, Declan," I asked rhetorically, my words strong yet they hardly carried over a whisper. "Since you broke my heart in this coffee shop? Since you brought your new girlfriend here because you thought I only worked the late shift? The former was last week and the latter was this morning. I think you need a new calendar."

He didn't respond to that, he didn't have to. He knew I wasn't strong enough to stand up for myself, all he needed to do was slide me his purchase and I would have to ring it up. Then I would collect the money he was so generously offering me because he knew how much I needed him to survive, even if he was killing me at the same time.

And so it went. After I rung up his drink - a frozen caramel macchiato - I rattled off the price to him as well as the details of the member discount I was supposed to inform him and every customer of when they made a purchase. Fifty percent off for those who sign up online with the promo code on his receipt. Though we don't get the best haul of customers when I'm at the counter, I have it committed to memory in hope that I would be rattling it off for someone or something worthwhile. Not my ex-boyfriend who was ruining my life by helping me live it.

"Hey," he said and kissed me quickly on the cheek before I could make any type of evasive measure. "I'm sorry, I'm still sorry, and I always will be. But that doesn't change that I fell out of love with you or the fact that it's the one thing you don't want to hear or know. You have to move on and forget me, Effie."

Whilst deciding on nodding because he was exactly right or pushing him away for the same reason, he reached over the counter and wrapped me into a heavy hug like I was used to from him, only this time it wouldn't hold me together - it would tear me apart.

"Have a nice night, Effie," he said with the ghost of a grin on his lips before turning for the exit.

"Good night, Declan."

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They said one of the cures for recurring nightmares was to imagine that they ended differently and more happily. They were resultant of unfinished business in life and if it couldn't be taken care of, the best thing would be to get every neurological loop involved to finish the job more quickly.

Of course, when said nightmare was your life and not just hand-picked facets of it by my brain, it was more easier said than done. I would have to get rid of my life in entirety, but that was entirely farfetched. In the most twisted sense, I wasn't even strong enough to take my own life, no matter how dull and weary it made me.

I wasn't strong enough for a lot of things when I began to think about it. I wasn't strong to tell Declan to stay out of my life for good. I wasn't strong enough to tell my boss how my aunt was sick and how after my parents died, she was the closest thing I had to one. I wasn't strong enough to even do good at this job, for it required charisma and social skills which I lacked as far as both were concerned. My open letter of resignation was not ending my life, but rolling with the punches it threw at me without the gall or energy to raise my arms and parry them.

And this one came with massive force, the feeling of the back door being wrenched back and forth almost seemed to shake the whole building. I let out a gasp of alarm, instinctively for I knew that no one was around to hear me. I was all alone and it was fully sinking in now that the situation called for there to be company. Someone was trying to break in.

Assessing myself, I was not suited for self defense - or defending an entire shop - but the traffic would definitely prevent the police's arrival if I were to call them. It was up to me to send this person away, the thought of trying to fight off someone who seemed so strong making me shiver.

I looked out of the window, seeing men and women walking to and fro. Thankfully, there were enough people to bear witness to the hypothetical robbery and hopefully come to my aid. All I had to do was try and scare them away, or at least figure out why they were here.

Taking all of the false courage in me that I could muster, I grabbed a rolling pin and made my way to the back. Between where I was and the door, there was a long hallway with the door that led to the storeroom in it and a small light hanging on the ceiling that flickered on and off every now and then. It was an eerie sight, especially with the door being yanked at the same time, almost as if it were borrowed from a horror movie.

After walking the length of the hall, I tightened my grip on the pin's handle, using my other hand to twist the knob. "Who's out there?"

The door swung open, the force of it sending me sprawling backwards as a tall figure burst through them. I felt a fist wrap around my wrist before the intruder pulled me into the storeroom.