*ring ring* Goes my alarm clock. I roll over and switch it off. I slowly sit up and look outside to see the sun shining through my window. I hear the birds beautifully singing their national morning anthem. I hang my feet over the side of my bed and slowly stand up on my feet. I throw my hands over my head and stretch, preparing my body for the upcoming twelve hour shift I am scheduled to work at my family's diner. I roll my eyes in irritation reflecting back to every day that I work there is another day I wish wouldn't. They always make me do everything, from hostessing, waitressing, to even cooking and doing late afternoon clean up. They have five other people working on shift and they make me do everything. Not to mention, by the end of the day when everything is done, they still tell me I don't work hard enough.
I shake my head and proceed to the bathroom to shower. As I enter into the bathroom, I look directly into the mirror, staring back at what seems to be my reflection. My eyes were puffy as well as my cheeks, I looked like I had just gotten hit by a truck. I turn away from my hideous reflection and walk into the shower. I turn on the water and the warmth of the water feels ever so relaxing as it hits my cold skin.
After ten minutes pass, I turn the shower off and step out. I dry off my body and throw on my work clothes. I look at my reflection once more as I'm brushing my teeth and pulling my hair back into a ponytail. I pray for the day to speed by as fast as I get there, but I know that's impossible. I walk down the stairs, into the kitchen, grab my keys and head out the front to my car to leave for work.
The ride to work would be the only peace I would have, at least it seemed so now a days. My parents no longer look at me or praise me for doing anything right anymore. I mainly think that's because of the last time they brought me to church, I told the pasture that god had never helped me when my parents had beaten me so badly. That I went to school with bruises all over my body, with my teachers asking me all sorts of questions and lying to them, saying I had been in a bad car accident. After I told him that, I proceeded to tell him I lost my faith in god because he was never there for me when I needed him most. The person who has ever been there for me and knows exactly how my whole life has been is my only best friend Pam. I can tell her anything and she'll listen without spreading a single word to anyone. She is the best and I'd do anything for her.
I turn off the ignition and the car fades to silent. I step out of the car, closing and locking the doors behind me. As I walk and punch in, my parent's are already hassling me to do this or do that, and I hadn't even put on my name tag yet. I told them I'd get to it and made my way over to the desk where my name tag had been lying. I pick up my name tag and get straight to work. As I walk out on to the floor, I couldn't help but to notice how irregularly busy we were, I began waiting on the first few tables just to ease the stress of the other two waitresses on shift with me.
Three hours pass by and it's already felt like ten. I'm already fed up with the rude amount of customers I've had today so far. You'd think they'd be more respectful especially when they are the quests. I shake my head in disbelief and continue my work. I take four large plates back to the back room to be washed. Right as I turned the corner, I ran directly into my mom who had been carrying a clear glass coffee pot full of hot coffee. The coffee had spilled on her pants and the plates had fallen to the floor shattering, leaving a large mess for me to clean up. My mom screeched in response to the hot coffee hitting her skin. She looked up from her jeans and directly into my eyes. She was furious, her eyes raging like a wild animal. "Nora! How dare you!" She yelled. She slammed down the coffee pot, cracking it and firmly grabbed my hand leading me to the back in the office. She closed the door behind her and continued yelling. I looked at her solemnly, softly apologizing. She ignored my apologies and raised her hand. Terrified I begged. "Mom, no! Please!" I continued to beg, but she ignored my pleas and began hitting me. I used my arms as a shield to stop her. She grabbed a ruler from the desk and began hitting me. Every hit stung like a burn from hot water in a pan. The beating went on for ten minutes and during those ten minutes my hands hand been bleeding and I had been drowning in my own tears. This time I begged and pleaded ever so desperately for her to stop between my cries, but she still wouldn't. I fell to the floor, curled up, crying. She stopped and stood over me and said in a harsh tone. " Next time if you do that to me again, your punishment will be much worse." She walked out of the office closing the door behind her. I lied on the cool floor for a few minutes crying.
I slowly rose to my feet and walked outside. Still crying, I sit behind the dumpster and lean my back against the wall of the building, cringing in pain as my back makes contact with the wall. I reach in my front pocket of my jeans and dial Pam's number. After a few rings, she answers. Between sobs I say to her, "Pam, I need you. Please."
I shake my head and proceed to the bathroom to shower. As I enter into the bathroom, I look directly into the mirror, staring back at what seems to be my reflection. My eyes were puffy as well as my cheeks, I looked like I had just gotten hit by a truck. I turn away from my hideous reflection and walk into the shower. I turn on the water and the warmth of the water feels ever so relaxing as it hits my cold skin.
After ten minutes pass, I turn the shower off and step out. I dry off my body and throw on my work clothes. I look at my reflection once more as I'm brushing my teeth and pulling my hair back into a ponytail. I pray for the day to speed by as fast as I get there, but I know that's impossible. I walk down the stairs, into the kitchen, grab my keys and head out the front to my car to leave for work.
The ride to work would be the only peace I would have, at least it seemed so now a days. My parents no longer look at me or praise me for doing anything right anymore. I mainly think that's because of the last time they brought me to church, I told the pasture that god had never helped me when my parents had beaten me so badly. That I went to school with bruises all over my body, with my teachers asking me all sorts of questions and lying to them, saying I had been in a bad car accident. After I told him that, I proceeded to tell him I lost my faith in god because he was never there for me when I needed him most. The person who has ever been there for me and knows exactly how my whole life has been is my only best friend Pam. I can tell her anything and she'll listen without spreading a single word to anyone. She is the best and I'd do anything for her.
I turn off the ignition and the car fades to silent. I step out of the car, closing and locking the doors behind me. As I walk and punch in, my parent's are already hassling me to do this or do that, and I hadn't even put on my name tag yet. I told them I'd get to it and made my way over to the desk where my name tag had been lying. I pick up my name tag and get straight to work. As I walk out on to the floor, I couldn't help but to notice how irregularly busy we were, I began waiting on the first few tables just to ease the stress of the other two waitresses on shift with me.
Three hours pass by and it's already felt like ten. I'm already fed up with the rude amount of customers I've had today so far. You'd think they'd be more respectful especially when they are the quests. I shake my head in disbelief and continue my work. I take four large plates back to the back room to be washed. Right as I turned the corner, I ran directly into my mom who had been carrying a clear glass coffee pot full of hot coffee. The coffee had spilled on her pants and the plates had fallen to the floor shattering, leaving a large mess for me to clean up. My mom screeched in response to the hot coffee hitting her skin. She looked up from her jeans and directly into my eyes. She was furious, her eyes raging like a wild animal. "Nora! How dare you!" She yelled. She slammed down the coffee pot, cracking it and firmly grabbed my hand leading me to the back in the office. She closed the door behind her and continued yelling. I looked at her solemnly, softly apologizing. She ignored my apologies and raised her hand. Terrified I begged. "Mom, no! Please!" I continued to beg, but she ignored my pleas and began hitting me. I used my arms as a shield to stop her. She grabbed a ruler from the desk and began hitting me. Every hit stung like a burn from hot water in a pan. The beating went on for ten minutes and during those ten minutes my hands hand been bleeding and I had been drowning in my own tears. This time I begged and pleaded ever so desperately for her to stop between my cries, but she still wouldn't. I fell to the floor, curled up, crying. She stopped and stood over me and said in a harsh tone. " Next time if you do that to me again, your punishment will be much worse." She walked out of the office closing the door behind her. I lied on the cool floor for a few minutes crying.
I slowly rose to my feet and walked outside. Still crying, I sit behind the dumpster and lean my back against the wall of the building, cringing in pain as my back makes contact with the wall. I reach in my front pocket of my jeans and dial Pam's number. After a few rings, she answers. Between sobs I say to her, "Pam, I need you. Please."
