Read Online Thirty Days: Part One by Belle Brooks - Free Book Online Page A

I would…so anyway, Bella died,” I continue. “I failed at that, too.” Dropping my head, I wonder why I was chosen to receive this hex. “What’s the antidote for eradicating bad luck?” Frustration fills my words. “Does it take a handsome prince riding in on a stallion to save me, like in the fairy tales you used to read? Or a potion made by witches? I’m serious. I need to get rid of this shit, because honestly, Dad, I can’t do this anymore.”
    Talking through the latest crap in my life has helped. I spilled information on everything, from my newest panic filled moments, to the new job that commences next morning. I didn’t forget to include my unpaid leave situation. Maybe talking to a rock is better than any person.
    Kissing my palm, I place it softly against the stone. “I love you, Dad. Until next time. If only you could talk back, how different my life would be.”
    Strolling back to Bertha, the gardens begin to grow darker as night encroaches. The blue light on my mobile is flashing when I get back into the car. Sammy. Four missed calls and messages from my phone service, but I don’t bother listening to them, opting to just call her back.
    “Abi, where are you?” she snaps.
    “Visiting an old friend.”
    “Who?”
    “None of your business. I got the job. I start in the morning, so no need to come by and wake me at lunch time. You might actually get to do your job, hey?”
    “Always a smart mouth, aren’t you?”
    “Whatever do you mean, Ginger?”
    “Don’t play innocent with me, Dorothy.”
    There’s a pause. Looking out Bertha’s windscreen, I can’t help but think of the strange man who interrupted my time with Dad.
    “Do you want to do dinner tonight? A celebration?” Sammy’s voice seems hesitant.
    “I do not,” I reply promptly.
    “Fine.”
    “Well, you go off and sulk now. I’m going home.”
    “You can do this, Abigail.”
    At least one of us is hopeful . “Goodbye, Sammy.” I hang up.
    Can I do this?

Repetitious
    First day.
    Nobody likes the first day of a new job. Well, that’s probably not true. My first day as a teacher was exhilarating. This, on the other hand, feels almost cruel. Who wants to work in an office typing dictation? Not me. I’d rather be teaching it.
    I fling the alarm clock as far as the cord allows before it crashes to the ground. “I don’t want to get up,” I moan. “How does it keep working? Can you not be beaten to death, you stupid annoying noise maker?”
    Apparently not. Its attack on my ears continues until I switch it off on my way to the bathroom.
    The mirror is fogged with steam after a long shower. As my hand makes circular motions against the glass, my reflection stares back at me.
    Foundation application is definitely vital…swollen and dark bags frame my eyes.
    “Coverage will fix this.”
    Sleeping was not a success last night. I did manage to get a few hours, but the way my body is moving, it feels more like five minutes.
    “Bad hair day. Of course it is,” I groan, tying matted locks into a messy bun. “Shit! Note,” I remember aloud before leaving for work.
    Mum,
    Have a job. Start today. Sorry I didn’t take your calls last night. Calling twenty times will not make me answer. Stop trying. Will be home after 5:00 p.m. Not looking forward to it. Don’t be surprised if I’m fired and home earlier. Hope you’re having a night off soon, you look like crap.
    Love, your darling and favourite daughter, Abigail xx
    ***
    Indicate left. Swerve into limited space. Stop.
    Indicate right. Swerve into even smaller space. Stop.
    This is how the trip to work went down. Add in some huffs, swear words, and beeping, and after thirty minutes I’m there.
    “Morning traffic sucks,” I say, pulling the hem of my uniform back below my knees as I exit Bertha.
    “Did I even do this stupid scarf thing right?” I wonder aloud, looking at my image in the automatic doors. They open to Asher standing behind the counter. She looks much too