The Ghosts We Were

Chapter Three - Tori

I forgot to set my alarm for the meeting. This is why Saturday meetings should be illegal. No one should have to set an alarm on a Saturday. Instead I wake up to Mira sitting on my face. I groan, gently push her off, and grab my phone to look at the time.

I'm already running late before my feet have even hit the floor so I throw some clothes on, douse my head in dry shampoo, and hope for the best.

The subway smells of urine and alcohol even though it's eight in the morning and I have to hold my breath nearly the entire ride.

After ten years in the city, you'd think I'd have gotten used to public transportation, but right now I'd give anything for the curvy tree lined backroads back at home.

I haven't even made it to my office to set my bag down before the rumor mill starts swirling around me like a tornado of negativity.

Jeannie is waiting for me in the hallway to tell me about the interviews she has lined up and the poor intern looks as if her hair is going to fall out at any moment.

The tension is so thick you could swim in it and everyone is constantly looking over their shoulder, quite literally.

The higher ups must take pity on us because they don't leave us waiting long. They do a quick once over to make sure everyone is here. No skipping out on being fired apparently.

It's no surprise when they break out the red folders which say severance package nor when they start calling us into separate offices one by one.

I'm not even listening as they explain how much money they're giving me as compensation for canning me. Or about how they'll gladly give recommendation letters to future employers.

This was it. This was my chance to be someone in the city. All of my minimal savings has been blown. I am broke, unemployed, and alone.

There isn't even any more couches for me to crash on now that Claudia has gotten married and had kids.

I take my stupid red folder and pack my meager desk in my little box. A pathetic attempt at a bonsai tree I'd tried in vain to take care of, my corgi squishy, my Hello Kitty post it notes, and my phone charger. All of which I probably could have fit in my bag.

"Let me give you a ride," Jeannie offers from behind her own small box. The tip of a Harry Potter wand sticks out from the side, threatening to poke anyone who comes near. I'm pretty sure it's not accidentally placed that way. It's a warning to any well wishers that she doesn't want to hear it.

I lower my head and relent. One subway ride was enough for today. I'm pretty sure the tiny bit of life hanging on inside my bonsai tree wouldn't make it through another.

In the car she calls her husband, not even bothering to take it off of the car speakers. I listen as he tries to calmly tell her that everything will be alright.

"Baby, you're too good for them anyway. All that work and they never appreciated your talent. This could be an opportunity for you to go even further," he says as I try not to gag.

She rolls her eyes. "I liked it there. I don't want to go to work for a big five and sign my life away to the next marketable product that comes along."

"Then don't."

Now I want to roll my eyes. It's one thing to want to believe in your work. It's another to know how much of a pretentious ass you sound and spout it anyway. Like she'd never walked into a chain bookstore and grabbed a copy of a book published by a major publisher. Duh, Jeannie, Harry Potter is a big five book. Don't think you'd have complained about being the editor on that.