Chapter Two: Words The Size Of Ants

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I'm exhausted and irritable, but I'm glad that my shift at Pita Pan for the weekend is over.

Walking down the quiet street to the apartment, I pull a pack of cigarettes from my hoodie pocket and pick one out. Shoving the pack back into the pocket, I light up. Inhaling the cancer ridden thing, I blow a few smoke rings into the cool autumn air.

Living on the west side of the city, it's safe to walk alone on the street at any time of day -at least from what I've experienced. People on the east side of the city though have it a bit rough. Street fights break out randomly, along with drug deals going wrong almost every second.

Over the years, there's been many times that it's come close to my mom and I moving to the east side. Ever since my dad, Vincent, was killed in a car accident five years ago, things haven't been the same. My mom, Jane, started drinking more, resulting in her becoming an alcoholic. With the addiction, came money being poorly spent on alcohol instead of bills, rent, and other important things.

I for one after my dad's death became broken inside. I was always more closer to him than my mom and could always talk to him about anything; I miss our talks. I remember this one time when I was around ten, my dad told me, "Sweetie, wherever life plants you, bloom with grace." At the time I thought he was just goofing around since my middle name is the name of a flower, Daisy. But later on, I realized that those words have meaning.

Instead of wilting like a dead flower, I should be blooming like a flower in spring. But as always though, it's easier said then done. Over coming my depression will be a challenge; I wonder if I will ever win the battle.

A gust of wind blows over me causing my long hair to fly all over in my face. I'm so blinded that I feel my foot catch in the crevice of the sidewalk. I instantly trip and fall onto my hands and knees, most likely scraping something in the process.

"Damn it," I say looking at my pack of cigarettes that scattered across the sidewalk. The cigarette that I had been previously smoking lays next to my left hand still lighted. Grabbing it, I stub it out and toss it into the street that's already filled with other miscellaneous junk.

Living in the city is not at all what it's cracked up to be, those pictures of buildings and views of the street on social media are all photoshopped, at least in my opinion.

Crawling on my hands and knees, I start collecting what's the left of the cigarettes that had been spilled from the pack. If I had extra money, I would just throw out the pack and buy a new one, but cigarettes aren't cheap, stupid taxes. On the other hand maybe, I could convince Trent, a candy store owner who also sells lottery tickets and cigarettes, to sell me pack. I'll have stop by sometime.

Snatching the last cigarette by a flower pot, I notice something glimmer in the sunlight just a few inches from it. I crawl closer and see that it's a ring and pick it up.

Examining the ring in my hands, I see that it's engraved with tiger stripes. If you were to look at the ring from a distance, you would think it's just a cheap dollar store one. Instead of it being a crappy metal one, it appears to be real gold.

Hmm...maybe this might be my lucky day.

-

"Yes I see that."

"No, I'm pretty sure I know what I applied for."

"Uh-huh, well it wasn't brought to my attention."

"Fine print? What fine print?"

"What kind of mockery is this?! You pieces of—"

"No, I don't need to calm down!"

"Oh, I'm being rude? Let me speak to your supervisor goddamn it! Or I—"

The line goes dead.

Apparently my so-called full scholarship for college is not actually a full one. Curse me for not reading the fine print on the application... Ugh, there should be a law against making words the size of ants.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm content that I got into the college I wanted, George Brown University. The thing is though, I was really counting on getting a full scholarship since money is pretty tight now. I could theoretically take out a few student loans but I know I'll still be short on cash.

Damn, that fine print.

Lounging on the white leather couch in the apartment, I twirl my new ring around my right index finger. Someone must have been very careless to drop such a valuable object on the sidewalk. This must be a man's ring considering how big the band is compared to other rings that I own. How does one even drop a ring in the first place?

As of right now, I have no clue on what I should do with the ring. Keeping it is one option. My other is to perhaps find the owner of the ring. But that would take so much time and effort. In the end, I would probably be giving it away to someone who probably wouldn't even be the rightful owner. Maybe it's best I keep it for now.

-

Hey guys!
I'm so so sorry that this is a really short chapter. School has recently started again for me and I've been busy with lengthy assignments. I will try my best to update whenever possible.

Quick question:
Do you like stories with longer or shorter chapters?

See you soon,
-Nikki

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