Post by molly jacie-beth feather on Mar 22, 2011 16:54:48 GMT -5
Sometimes, she wondered what it would have been like if she was a normal nineteen-year old. She would sit and just look at a picture of her and her father before he was killed, wondering if she could have some day got out of the quarantined town and go to a good university, not just stuck in a small town with online courses. She would wonder if she could have gotten through school to be a psychologist and would be the person to counsel those who dealt with grief, with mental disabilities, to help someone gain their life again like someone once did to her. She would wonder if it was possible that she could have used her fathers money to be able to get word out on self-harm, and teach them that you can push away from it. That someday it is possible to step away from the unending circle of pain and grief. That one day she could explain to others about her scars and tell them that she understood, and teach them what to do.
Then reality sunk in, and she knew it was impossible. She was nineteen and she was stuck heading a company that was based in New York, yet there were no owners of the company that had ever been there. That the only way she'd get a proper education was online, and half of her patients, if she ever became a psychologist, would be complaining about the injustice of someone being possessed or being tormented by demons, and she'd have nothing to say. She could only tell them that they had to deal with it, because nobody was ever going to help and that they wouldn't even leave this town, because the government decided to hide their problems away.
The dark-haired teen sighed and ran a hand through her hair as she took a sip of her coffee and watched the rain fall outside the window. She had taken a lunch break over an hour ago and hadn't even eaten yet, opting to sit in the booth by the window and watch the rain fall. It was a familiar position, she had often sat alone near the rain when she had been in the dark pits of depression a year earlier, and she mused on how life had dealt her injustices. Then again, she assumed that anyone in Hulett had been given a pretty shitty life, anyways, so she had no reason to complain. At least she wasn't a shell for a demon, or one of her family members or friends were actual demons, hidden in the human bodies that had once housed loved ones.
Molly Jacie-Beth Feather rolled her eyes and leaned back on the booth, rolling her eyes at her own angst. She blaimed it on the rain, the sudden angst that was reminiscent of the previous depression she had. That and the fact that she had to deal with dunderheads at work, hell, and the fact that she had to even work. She was nineteen and had somehow managed to strike fear in most of the members of her fathers -now hers- company. Guess being a bitch in the morning gives some fear. She mused as she tapped her fingers on the older wooden table, feeling the hard surface under her fingertips and allowing it to shake off the last of her teenage angst. She glanced up and waved over a nearby waitress. "I'll take a veggie burger, please, and fries. " She murmured to the waitress, who moved to take in her order with a hastily mumbled "Of course, Miss Feather.. Interesting, it was good to know that her employees had spread the irrational freak rumor out of the company. That could work to her advantage, it would all be found out in the end, she supposed.
Molly chewed on her lower lip as she glanced around the half-empty diner. A few waitresses with bad hair were gossiping near the till, one of which was picking at her four-inch-long nails with a look of disdain. An older couple were feasting on fried liver and onions (disgusting!), and were muttering to each other, despite the fact that they were both then following each sentence with a somewhat loud proclamation of 'What?'. A young woman, mid teens, most likely, was testing furiously on some new-style phone that somehow made its way into the hall that people fondly called Hulett, while her parents were discussing the merits of giving their cat, Fluffy, a shave. The only other person that was alone was a rather poorly dressed older man who was sipping on something black, likely coffee, and was mumbling to a fish in a bag that he had on the table.
No wonder people didn't come to this diner much.
Molly quite liked LA Ruby, it was a small diner that had a modest fifties design and a sign that had long ago lost one of the clips to hold it up and was on it's side. Ruby was a sweet older woman in her mid-sixties with a loud personality who had moved to Huelett from LA (big mistake there). Nobody knew why she had just decided to name her restaurant LA Ruby, but it was charming in its own way. Ruby rarely came in tot he shop, but when she did, Molly quite enjoyed her conversations with the former showgirl. LA Ruby made good coffee, too, even if one of the waitresses (who wasn't on duty, thank god) tended to leave it and let it cold too long. She enjoyed their food, too, and it was one of the few places where she could get a somewhat decent burger, not one that tasted like cardboard. However it didn't really draw as much interest as some of the other restaurants nearby, other teenagers and young adults opting to go to a small pub nearby, and others opting for the more modern restaurants that surrounded LA Ruby. Either way, she remained loyal to the older diner.
However, there were times where she just wished that someone would come in so she could talk to someone else. Even a demon intent on getting Feather Lakes under their thumb. Even another teenager or young adult. Why that was ranked below demon Molly had no idea, and put it as a side not in her mind, to try and figure out why her own age seemed to scare her more then possessed sons-of-bitches. Interesting.
STATUS # completed.
FEATURING # open
WORD COUNT # one thousand eighty five.
NOTES # sorry it sucks. hate intros. btw, there is mention of self-harm, and I understand it is a sensative subject and I myself have self-harmed for a while now, it is not a base in any molly post, but I thought a warning would be nice. if anyone rags me out on that or tells me how pathetic SI is, i'll be out of her faster than you can say sorry. so yeah. characters opinons can be different, though, of course. ;}
WEARING # gimme a minute.
CREDIT # IRONICALLIZE_IT @ CAUTION 2.0