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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1075316-A-cat-out-of-water
Rated: ASR · Fiction · Fantasy · #1075316
A vampire's look at retail life while trying to regain all she has lost.
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!
Silence
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

My head is in a fog as I reach to click the switch to turn off that ever annoying alarm.
Ah the peace of silence I think, but know that it is short lived. Monday, it is again and no better than last week or the week before that. How long has it been since I could sleep all day and party all night? How long since the money disappeared? Every Monday, I would ponder this while getting ready for work. Every Monday was the same answer. I couldn't change my fate that was left to the lawyer I kept trying to get enough money to pay.

I chuckle to myself as I step into the shower. The electronic age they called this. Money is safer than ever they said. I bought into it. I wanted a piece of the technological pie. I bought in too soon. My accounts and about 300 others were hacked and transfered to some place in the Cayman Islands. Typical they said. Offshore is harder to trace. Yeah all of that was true. But most of the money was small family accounts of less than 100 thousand, not 58 million in US dollars I had stashed in 15 accounts over the last 10 years. I had even moved my Zurich funds over to this electronically protected bank. How stupid!

So here I was drying off on this bright spring morning getting ready to don my typical department store khakis and shirt. I was lucky to get this position. I've never driven a car, or even thought about it. I can't cook. Why would I? Type? Are you kidding? Besides, I don't have to smile. They didn't require experience. I stock the shelves, and they pay me. It works.

With all the things I had, I pawned everything worth while to pay the lawyers and private detectives to investigate and soon found I was just as flawed at picking effective associates. So that brings me back to the department store and paying the current lawyer I have.

You would think that moving heavy items is easy for a being with supernatural strength. Sure, it is during the night, but in daytime my powers are weaker. I hate to admit it, but it does make me appear more normal. I can't hide my pale skin and teeth, but there are ways around it. Only thing I can't hide are my eyes in the dark. I see better than a cat in the dark and my eyes can glow at times. Hard to hide when someone sees glowing eyes across the dark warehouse back of the store.

I'm quiet and keep to myself. I hear the whispers. They want to know more about me. They are confused and think I am a wayward goth girl. I don't wear black to work because of requirements, but they figure that my whole wardrobe is black otherwise. If they only knew, they would faint at the jewel colored dresses I own. I have laughed a few times at one thing or another. I get weird stares completely focused on my teeth, but explaining they were filed has helped improve the goth rumor. The eyes, those are the killer for me.

This is the third department store I have worked due to that fact. I mean I do have some sort of moral rules. I don't kill co-workers. I made that rule the minute I got a job. I may hunt outside of work, but I don't want to know my victims. I certainly don't want memories of seeing them day after day. So, when I was discovered. I didn't immediately quit. I let the rumors get to me and I would say something about a rat or opossum being seen in the warehouse area. Most of the time that squashed the first report, but if 3 or more got to management that I knew were legit I would quietly quit stating new job as the reason.

Do I want my old life back? Oh yes. I would love for those lovely lawyers to find my money so I could leave this hell that requires jackets in the summer as well as fall and winter. I would love to party at the night clubs again and be surrounded by people that I don't know. It is like being a child in a candy store. What do you sample first? But until that day comes, I will muddle along and forward my cash to the lawyers.
© Copyright 2006 Morthva Truveau (morthva at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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