Undone

Chapter 1

Jessica Banks.

"Your application has been approved," The leasing agent says to me over the phone as I sit in my small office in Manhattan, New York.

"That's great," I say softly, but really it didn't feel great. I just got through a really serious breakup and my ex-boyfriend had only given me thirty days to find a place.

I was going from a gorgeous Manhattan apartment with a view of Central Park, to a small, run-down duplex in Brooklyn. Don't get me wrong, I love Brooklyn. The city isn't the issue, it's the duplex. I could barely afford Brooklyn and was even looking at New Jersey, but with the commute to work I needed Brooklyn and the only place I could come close to affording was the run down Duplex on the corner of the street.

Partly, I was relieved to have a home now. The other part of me was nervous to embark on a journey alone as a single woman in a slightly scary street in Brooklyn, but I would be fine, right? Bad things only happen to women in movies and my life is not a movie. If it was, it would be rated terribly on Rotten Tomatoes.

When I returned home from work, I was eager to tell Malcom that I found a place. Again, I hoped that maybe he would regret dumping me and beg me to stay but when I walked in on him taking some random girl from behind on my couch, I realized that wouldn't happen.

"You son of a bitch!" I yelled, throwing my purse across the room and charging towards him. My hands went wild, slapping his back repeatedly as he stepped away from the girl and began to try and console me.

What a complete asshole. How did I miss that before? Maybe I was too caught up in the fact that Malcom Locke wanted me. The son to a rich CEO wanted just an average girl from Florida. I was infatuated, to say the least. He, on the other hand, didn't give a damn about me.

"You're fucking crazy, Jessica." Malcom says as he pulls on his briefs.

Fucking briefs. They're so ugly and I let it slide because I love him. I loved him. I can't love him anymore, because he doesn't care. He doesn't deserve my love.

"You're fucking some chick on my couch!" I raised my voice, flailing my arms as the anger begins to radiate through my entire body, "This is the one thing I own. You have the bed, you have the fucking kitchen counters, but this couch is mine."

He rolls his eyes, now pulling on a pair of blue jeans and buttoning them up, "Jesus Christ, Jess. It's a couch from Pottery Barn, calm down."

Without a word, I stormed to the spare room where I had been sleeping this past month. Luckily, I had most of my things ready to go but I would have to wait until the weekend to move when it was the first of the month.

I'm forced to stay in this apartment that I once loved because until October 1st, I was trapped with nowhere to go. Unfortunately the weather is already starting to cool so sleeping on a bench in the park wasn't an option for me.

For the next few days I was forced to watch at Malcom brought different girls into the apartment and had loud, obnoxious sex in the room next to mine. As Taylor Swift once said, 'So casually cruel in the name of being honest.'

Friday came slowly, but tomorrow would be the day I escape my prison lifestyle and move to Brooklyn. I just needed to get through this day at work and the rest would hopefully be a breeze.

I work as an intern at a law office for low income people, or people that can't afford anything at all. A public defender, if you will. Today was a little different and my mentor told me to meet him at a prison. New York State Penitentiary. This was a first, but it we're being honest it was always exciting to experience different walks of life or different avenues in the law field.