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Adelaine Colbert, a seventeen-year-old college dropout, family failure and socially awkward. After dropping out of college and destroying her parents' dreams and ambitions she has a plan. Get a job...
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"All day staring at the ceiling making friends with shadows on my wall. All night hearing voices telling me that I should get some sleep."
Days have passed since the interview, since the attack, since the fears and since my biggest nightmare came true. I haven't received a phone call yet which could mean several different things: either my interview went so bad they just decided to not ever call back, they forgot, or they are yet to call back since they are still making their decisions. Today is Sunday, exactly two days since the big day happened. As soon as I got myself together, I expeditiously got myself home only to be greeted to an empty house which was not really a surprise these days. Living alone and living here wouldn't have much difference since I would be alone either way, plus, I would have full control over not only myself but my life, my job and where I want to work rather than being forced to work somewhere I didn't want to, and my house. I guess this job could do me good if I do get it, the money is good for the number of hours I would work and the job I would do which isn't extremely hard or complex.
The reason for why getting this job is important to me to prove not only myself but also my old friends, my family that I am right for something. I am not the disappointment they see me as. I am not the failure my demons tell me I am. This job could affect more than my empty bank account and non-existent financial life.
Currently, and for the last two days I've been sat on my bed scrolling through the Facebook profiles of my old friends, they all seem so happy and content with their lives. They are all doing something with their lives, whereas I am sat waiting around for a stupid phone call which determines whether I'm a failure or not. Meanwhile, sulking about how boring both me and my life really are. I don't think, I, myself can't really disagree with the fact I am a boring party pooper hence why I never got into the sleepovers my friends used to host because I was simply too cautious and too 'boring'. I was never and still being not much of a risk taker so I can't really disagree but it still hurt that I was always the one excluded. I was always the second best. Always. Still am really. My parents always have put their jobs before me, their only daughter, does that count? I'm not sure.
Suddenly, as I flick to look through Kylie Jenner's Instagram page my phone's screen turns into one where somebody is calling. The number is unknown and usually, I don't answer if the contact isn't saved in my phone but then I remembered something. I literally have no friends, nor anybody who would want to call me who's number I don't have except the people about the job. Although, there is some guy I once met at the Dover gatherings who my parents were hell bent on me getting close to him since he came from a proper and good-mannered family like ours.
I love my parents, don't get me wrong, I do. They aren't bad people, sure they are in denial and particularly stubborn but they were the people who raised me, gave me a home, food, love, and everything else I ever needed. I love them and they love me, it's simple really. They do the things they do out of love and worry, not out of hatred or to gain more power although it may seem like a different case. My parents are good, loving and hardworking people. Just quite controlling and way too stubborn to let their prides get in the way of anything.
