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by Nikki
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Cultural · #1714959
a service woman's hopes for a better life
Ginger rose from bed with an agony she had come to expect.  Her auburn hair fell forward covering her dark circles and ruby veined eyes.  Sound filled the small bedroom Ginger had managed to get for a discount because of low income; her ears were overloaded from the volume of the noises, the cries of little James in his crib, David yelling from the living room for food, and screams of the city just out the window.
         “OK,” Ginger wearily thought, “it’s just another day”.
         She cradled James in her arms passed the impatient David to the kitchen where the morning breakfast would be cold cereal and pop tarts.  She put James in his highchair and the pop tarts in the old toaster her mother had given her when she was pregnant with David. With ginger’s job and single status she hadn’t been able to have the best the world had to offer her and her family.  While she waited on the pop tarts sirens filled the street below when she glanced out the window she saw Officer Smith fighting with CJ, the head of the Tri twelve.
         “Just like I thought it would be, just another day in the gardens” was the only response she had.
          The gardens had gotten its name about ten years ago. The police had named it the garden for its meth production industry that the Tri twelve seemed to work, but no one still living had any proof of that.
         Ting. The pop tarts were done, and just in time David’s cartoons had just ended and he was coming into the kitchen for his breakfast, backpack in tow.
         “ Mom I’m hungry,” David cryied.
         “Here David then take your pop tarts over to the table and eat,” Ginger half cried back.
         It was eight o’clock, her mother would be over any minute to take David over to school for her. Ever since her new job as a “service woman” her mother would have all but disowned her if it hadn’t been for David and James.  Pete’s club was the only job that Ginger was able to get since she and quit school back in twelveth  grade and had failed to get her GED.
         When her mother finally arrived another back and fourth glance of regerts were exchanged. Ginger gave David a kiss and he raced out the door telling her mother about the trip they were taking in school today.
         David’s father had been the major of the city.  When Ginger first started her job he had become the club’s best, and most secret client and of course he had a thing for red hair. He was her fifth client since working with Pete and after he paid he had requested that he be her only client for awhile. Not long after that Ginger was moved to bar duty since no client wanted to pay for a pregnant girl.
         After the apartment was empty all but for her and little James, Ginger’s morning routine of cleaning, babysitting, and looking for better work began. Pete called within the hour telling her about a new client he had for her and that she better not mess up this job since he was a rich and power person in the city. She agreed and told him she’d be there at nine o’clock sharp as always.
         James cried for his highchair and Ginger warped him in her arms humming the only song she really knew, hush little baby, to him until he settled down again. She laid him down in the playpen in the living room while she went to pick out her outfit for the night. Just as she made it into the bedroom Mr. and Mrs. Jones from the apartment next door began their morning yelling match. This morning it was over the broken sink that he had failed to fix.  She blocked the sound out the best she could and opened the door to the small closet near her bed.  Shots rang out form the street below and shouts soon followed, Ginger managed to close the window but not soon enough because James soon started crying again from the noise.  Tears rolled down Ginger’s face as she slammed backwards onto the bed and began crying with such force that the room seemed to start spinning. As her breathing become less and less forced a single, solitary thought sprang forward in her mind.
         “My life is a whisper and the whole world is deaf.”
© Copyright 2010 Nikki (nikki12 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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