Starry Nights Escaping the City Lights, chapter 1
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I bolted down a dark side street, the pounding of my shoes echoed off the buildings as I pushed myself to run faster. Angry voices echoed not far behind me. "Get that little shit before he can get to the cops!", a guys voice roared as more footsteps joined his in their pursuit. Okay hold on a minute your probably wondering why these people are after me and why they seem to think im a guy. Well let us take this back a ways and start from the beginning.
* * *
My name is Kitra and I'm twenty years old. I flew out to New York from Colorado not long after my birthday and started working as a writer for a low-key newspaper. I'd been there about four months when things kinda came to a head. My boss was a lazy jackass to say the least. Everyday he would come to my little cubicle and stand staring over my shoulder criticizing everything I wrote or typed while slobbering whatever he happened to be eating at the time (he ALWAYS ate) all over me and my work space. Then, after doing that for a while, he would go to his office and either make stupid phone calls to random people and yell at them for no reason or sit and stare out his window criticizing the people walking down on the street below. When he grew bored of this, he would call everyone into his office one by one and talk about how we were all dragging down the quality of the paper he ran and that he was so much better and we all sucked compared to him and so forth. I was the youngest of the team of writers so he immediately decided that I deserved to get the most shit.
"Why the hell do you always wear those clothes? Why does your writing always sound terrible? Why don't you be more like me?", and all sorts of junk like that. Day in and day out I took it in my stride, doing my best not to punch a hole in the bastard's face.
Thank God for Green Day and the little CD player I had in my cubicle. My Green Day CDs came with me to work everyday and home every night; they were my sanctuary. The people that worked in the cubicles around me also liked Green Day for the most part and would often poke their heads in to request a song they liked and wanted to here. Some even started to call me G.D. which amused me to some extent. A few of my co-workers had even started making a little game of the whole thing hiding song requests in sentences as they talked to me.
"G.D. Im still Waiting for that report you wanted me to look over." "You wanna go grab some Pop Rocks and Coke during lunch?"
"When are you going on your next Holiday?"
"Hey G.D. did you hear about that accident down on Christie Road?" However, one of my favorites was when Charlie came in one day and placing a hand on my shoulder, he leaned in and muttered, "Don't you wish that Jackman would just Fuck Off and Die?"
I practically fell off my chair as I burst out laughing. But it all went to hell only seconds after Charlie had muttered his little joke (which was partially true) in my ear. Someone behind us cleared their throat loudly and we both whipped around only to find a very unhappy Jackman standing in the door of my cubicle.
"Charlie, my office, now."
His voice was dead calm and Charlie walked out into the hall and started making his way towards Jackman's office. The asshole turned and pointed a fat finger at me giving me a death look.
"I'll deal with YOU and your filthy music in a moment!" he snarled, then turned and stomped down to his office.
"Charlie is right," I muttered. "You do need to fuck off and die." I was pissed and that poor excuse for a boss was going to get a very large piece of my mind when he waddled back here. I immediately started packing up my things. I turned to my computer after shoving the box of my stuff under the desk. I popped the Warning album into my CD player and flipped through the tracks as I waited for Jackman's return. I didn't have long to wait. I paused the CD and stuffed the stereo remote in the back pocket of my jeans. I could hear Jackman's heavy footsteps advancing down the hall. People poked their heads over the walls of their cubicles as he passed. I stared at my computer screen as he stepped in.
"Are you happy now Kitra?" he growled. "Charlie was fired because of your incompetence." I kept my back to him and took a deep breath before replying,
"Charlie wasn't fired because of me he was fired because you're a fat, insecure bastard who takes joy from degrading other people." I could almost feel his anger pressing on the back of my head. It empowered me. I'd struck a large nerve. He spoke, every syllable trembling with barely harnessed anger.
"How DARE you speak to me that way?! I'm not the insecure one, you are!" I stifled a laugh at his use of the 'I'm not... you are' comeback more commonly used by two year olds fighting on the playground.
He exploded as he heard me snigger.
" YOU DESPISE ME ONLY BECAUSE YOU KNOW I'M BETTER THAN YOU AND YOU'LL NEVER BECOME ANY MORE THAN SOME STREET BUM BEGGING FOR SPARE CHANGE OUTSIDE OF SOME DINGY RESTURANT! YOU'RE A LOW LIFE, AND A DRAIN ON THE ECONOMIC SOCIETY, YOU BRAINLESS SACK OF PUNK ASS WASTE!" I pretended to ignore him and opened up a game of solitaire on the computer. He roared in rage and grabbed the back of my chair spinning it around so he came face to face with me. I gave him a smirk and flipped him a double bird.
"Why you little..." I cut him off. The box of self-control I had built around the anger welling up inside of me was beginning to crack.
"Shut your flabby mouth for once in your life, Jackman. It's MY turn to tell you what is going to happen to your fat ass." The box of control shattered I had taken it this far and I was going to finish it here and now. I stood up and Jackman took a step back. I began to scream at the man.
"EVERY ONE IN THIS HELL HOLE YOU CALL A NEWSPAPER HATES YOUR GUTS, YOU FAT FUCK, ESPECIALLY ME! I'VE SAT HERE, DAY IN AND DAY OUT, EATING MOUTHFUL AFTER MOUTHFUL OF THE SHIT YOU GIVE ME NO MATTER HOW HARD I WORK AND I AM DONE WITH IT! YOU'RE A MISERABLE EXCUSE OF A MAN AND YOU'RE GOING TO DIE OF A HEART ATTACK DOWN SOME DARK ALLEY, COLD AND ALONE!" Every single person in the place was staring towards us now. I took a deep breath allowing the calm to come back.
"And you know what Jackman? The day that happens I'm going to laugh my little 'punk ass' off." I grabbed the stereo remote out of my back pocket and hit play. Minority blared from the speakers. I grabbed Jackman's fat face and planted a kiss on his reddening forehead.
"Fuck off." I said quietly before grabbing my box of stuff placing the still blaring boom box on top and pushed my way past him making my way down the hall. Everyone in the office burst into an uproar of clapping and cheering for me as I stepped into the elevator. I set my box down, took a couple of bows, and blew kisses to everyone as the doors slid shut.
I caught Charlie crossing the main entrance as I got off the elevator. He stopped and turned giving me a confused look.
"Jackman will fire you if he figures out your down here." He muttered. I shot him a big grin.
"I don't think he'll be firing me to be completely honest." Charlie caught sight of my box.
"He's already let you go then." Charlie mused. "I'm sorry it's really all my fault... " I cut him off.
"Don't start beating yourself up buddy! He didn't fire me, I quit!" I told him what had happened after he had been fired and his jaw practically hit the floor.
"Kitra I knew you were off your rocker but my God! I'm surprised he didn't rip you to pieces!" I gave him a cocky smirk as we started walking to the door.
"Practically everyone in the office has wanted to do that to him for AGES! If he had tried anything he would have had like fifty other people to deal with!" Charlie nodded in agreement.
"I'd tip my hat to you if I was wearing one, Kitra." I gave him a nudge with my box and he practically fell over as we pushed through the doors and made our way down the sunny street.
* * *
My name is Kitra and I'm twenty years old. I flew out to New York from Colorado not long after my birthday and started working as a writer for a low-key newspaper. I'd been there about four months when things kinda came to a head. My boss was a lazy jackass to say the least. Everyday he would come to my little cubicle and stand staring over my shoulder criticizing everything I wrote or typed while slobbering whatever he happened to be eating at the time (he ALWAYS ate) all over me and my work space. Then, after doing that for a while, he would go to his office and either make stupid phone calls to random people and yell at them for no reason or sit and stare out his window criticizing the people walking down on the street below. When he grew bored of this, he would call everyone into his office one by one and talk about how we were all dragging down the quality of the paper he ran and that he was so much better and we all sucked compared to him and so forth. I was the youngest of the team of writers so he immediately decided that I deserved to get the most shit.
"Why the hell do you always wear those clothes? Why does your writing always sound terrible? Why don't you be more like me?", and all sorts of junk like that. Day in and day out I took it in my stride, doing my best not to punch a hole in the bastard's face.
Thank God for Green Day and the little CD player I had in my cubicle. My Green Day CDs came with me to work everyday and home every night; they were my sanctuary. The people that worked in the cubicles around me also liked Green Day for the most part and would often poke their heads in to request a song they liked and wanted to here. Some even started to call me G.D. which amused me to some extent. A few of my co-workers had even started making a little game of the whole thing hiding song requests in sentences as they talked to me.
"G.D. Im still Waiting for that report you wanted me to look over." "You wanna go grab some Pop Rocks and Coke during lunch?"
"When are you going on your next Holiday?"
"Hey G.D. did you hear about that accident down on Christie Road?" However, one of my favorites was when Charlie came in one day and placing a hand on my shoulder, he leaned in and muttered, "Don't you wish that Jackman would just Fuck Off and Die?"
I practically fell off my chair as I burst out laughing. But it all went to hell only seconds after Charlie had muttered his little joke (which was partially true) in my ear. Someone behind us cleared their throat loudly and we both whipped around only to find a very unhappy Jackman standing in the door of my cubicle.
"Charlie, my office, now."
His voice was dead calm and Charlie walked out into the hall and started making his way towards Jackman's office. The asshole turned and pointed a fat finger at me giving me a death look.
"I'll deal with YOU and your filthy music in a moment!" he snarled, then turned and stomped down to his office.
"Charlie is right," I muttered. "You do need to fuck off and die." I was pissed and that poor excuse for a boss was going to get a very large piece of my mind when he waddled back here. I immediately started packing up my things. I turned to my computer after shoving the box of my stuff under the desk. I popped the Warning album into my CD player and flipped through the tracks as I waited for Jackman's return. I didn't have long to wait. I paused the CD and stuffed the stereo remote in the back pocket of my jeans. I could hear Jackman's heavy footsteps advancing down the hall. People poked their heads over the walls of their cubicles as he passed. I stared at my computer screen as he stepped in.
"Are you happy now Kitra?" he growled. "Charlie was fired because of your incompetence." I kept my back to him and took a deep breath before replying,
"Charlie wasn't fired because of me he was fired because you're a fat, insecure bastard who takes joy from degrading other people." I could almost feel his anger pressing on the back of my head. It empowered me. I'd struck a large nerve. He spoke, every syllable trembling with barely harnessed anger.
"How DARE you speak to me that way?! I'm not the insecure one, you are!" I stifled a laugh at his use of the 'I'm not... you are' comeback more commonly used by two year olds fighting on the playground.
He exploded as he heard me snigger.
" YOU DESPISE ME ONLY BECAUSE YOU KNOW I'M BETTER THAN YOU AND YOU'LL NEVER BECOME ANY MORE THAN SOME STREET BUM BEGGING FOR SPARE CHANGE OUTSIDE OF SOME DINGY RESTURANT! YOU'RE A LOW LIFE, AND A DRAIN ON THE ECONOMIC SOCIETY, YOU BRAINLESS SACK OF PUNK ASS WASTE!" I pretended to ignore him and opened up a game of solitaire on the computer. He roared in rage and grabbed the back of my chair spinning it around so he came face to face with me. I gave him a smirk and flipped him a double bird.
"Why you little..." I cut him off. The box of self-control I had built around the anger welling up inside of me was beginning to crack.
"Shut your flabby mouth for once in your life, Jackman. It's MY turn to tell you what is going to happen to your fat ass." The box of control shattered I had taken it this far and I was going to finish it here and now. I stood up and Jackman took a step back. I began to scream at the man.
"EVERY ONE IN THIS HELL HOLE YOU CALL A NEWSPAPER HATES YOUR GUTS, YOU FAT FUCK, ESPECIALLY ME! I'VE SAT HERE, DAY IN AND DAY OUT, EATING MOUTHFUL AFTER MOUTHFUL OF THE SHIT YOU GIVE ME NO MATTER HOW HARD I WORK AND I AM DONE WITH IT! YOU'RE A MISERABLE EXCUSE OF A MAN AND YOU'RE GOING TO DIE OF A HEART ATTACK DOWN SOME DARK ALLEY, COLD AND ALONE!" Every single person in the place was staring towards us now. I took a deep breath allowing the calm to come back.
"And you know what Jackman? The day that happens I'm going to laugh my little 'punk ass' off." I grabbed the stereo remote out of my back pocket and hit play. Minority blared from the speakers. I grabbed Jackman's fat face and planted a kiss on his reddening forehead.
"Fuck off." I said quietly before grabbing my box of stuff placing the still blaring boom box on top and pushed my way past him making my way down the hall. Everyone in the office burst into an uproar of clapping and cheering for me as I stepped into the elevator. I set my box down, took a couple of bows, and blew kisses to everyone as the doors slid shut.
I caught Charlie crossing the main entrance as I got off the elevator. He stopped and turned giving me a confused look.
"Jackman will fire you if he figures out your down here." He muttered. I shot him a big grin.
"I don't think he'll be firing me to be completely honest." Charlie caught sight of my box.
"He's already let you go then." Charlie mused. "I'm sorry it's really all my fault... " I cut him off.
"Don't start beating yourself up buddy! He didn't fire me, I quit!" I told him what had happened after he had been fired and his jaw practically hit the floor.
"Kitra I knew you were off your rocker but my God! I'm surprised he didn't rip you to pieces!" I gave him a cocky smirk as we started walking to the door.
"Practically everyone in the office has wanted to do that to him for AGES! If he had tried anything he would have had like fifty other people to deal with!" Charlie nodded in agreement.
"I'd tip my hat to you if I was wearing one, Kitra." I gave him a nudge with my box and he practically fell over as we pushed through the doors and made our way down the sunny street.
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