I didn’t know how to start this part so it might be a good idea to thank you whoever supported me this far. Furthermore, I didn’t expect that. Especially when considering there are many talented writers whose mother tongue is English.  I was good at English, almost like at a native's level. Once upon a time … I’ve lost a lot of my talents one by one... Hope I can bring them back. But what you should know is I escape when I push the “publish” button; literally, I do. I opened a single special profile for this blog, and I shut it down as soon as I finished publishing and don’t look back for at least 24 hours. Some can find it pathetic, but this is how important it is to me. So thank you, sincerely. Let’s get back to my traumas. I promise it’s not boring. There are funny parts too. song

SUCKING WAS GETTING SUCKED BY SUCKING

The last time, I was saying about the fear where I left off, at the end of Part 2. It became like a valentine to me. But an annoying, insistent, manipulative one. He didn’t want me to get over anything, make proper decisions, or find some peace. I wasn’t happy, but I didn’t have such a luxury as not to be happy, either. I had no alternative, my family couldn’t support me financially since they were only had pension which was a ridiculous amount but nothing. As you can remember, Mom had already given their only savings to me: bracelets. If I had been unable to make it, I would have had to come back to town.

Well… The new job was more disgusting than the previous one. The factory was in the middle of nowhere (in an industrial zone), and you turned into Olaf when you stepped outside the office (suspicious) because of the cold in winter. You were pasteurized when you returned to your office. Otherwise, I was okay with cold; I love cold. What I didn’t like was the boss, her daughter, or the guy who was originally from Iran or wherever (I can’t remember). I’m not a cannibal, of course; I had been okay with them until I realized they were not with me. Honestly, the Iranian guy had no guilt. We just had no common point, and he was the only person working with me in the same department. Yeah, two people for the whole factory and operations.  So I had no friend.

 But I was imitating a kind of happiness. I was always enthusiastic despite knowing that I didn’t belong in those places. Because I had hope but nothing. Ants were partying on the kitchen countertop of my house that I barely rented. Pigeons nested on my one and only tiny balcony which I even couldn’t turtle head into there since they wanted to kill me most likely. But you know, it was mine; it was freedom.

Nevertheless, work sucked. The boss’s daughter was totally living in a different world. She was kind in the beginning, but she was conservative, and she was implying stupid things based on my dressing style, which wasn’t out of the general acceptance. It didn’t last too long already. They laid me off either. I didn’t even find time to make a mistake. (Worker’s insurance curse, I guess.) But this time the most hateful part was how it was done. I can't forget that disgusting bad breath of the guy called "boss," even if I'd like to. You didn’t have to get so close to him; you could smell it from miles away. One day when I got into the room to pass my desk, he was sitting in my chair and was spinning around himself, what do you call it, with the manner of “I’m the boss" and smirking at me. He said, “It was easy, huh? The dictionary was on your service (pointing to Google Translate), and you just type the words.” F*cking idiot. He wasn’t able to finish secondary school, as I knew. And that bad breath … I felt some kind of electricity in my veins and wanted to flay at him and drown that f*cking dwarf! I also wanted to vomit due to that smell. However, I didn’t do anything. Instead, I came back home crying, in an anger and shock. They showed the courtesy to drive me to the metro. (How kind).

 So, even without seeing two months in my new workplace, I came back to the beginning. That, after all, the COVID-19 pandemic would make the big show approximately after a month.

Things are getting darker for me from this point on. I’m not sure how to tell the rest, which can be called easy-peasy when compared to today’s cases. Even with the fact that I mentioned, I feel nervous. I decided that this part was some kind of transition part to the hell’s door for this reason. I thought that I forgot and wouldn't be affected. But, hey! I’m opening the Pandora’s box. Let’s say common side effects.

See you in the next part.