The Blind One

Chapter 4

Getting ready is one of the few things I hate when it comes to my job in the evening,unlike the morning. The pressure of appearance before work hits me the most at this time. You see, people at the restaurant are mostly employed through their appearance, it's just like, in most Qliche   American school where the cook is obese,usually old and saggy with dandruff that falls in the meal. This person is usually hated. Similarly,the company chooses to employ good looking people to 'welcome' the customers, who are  in most cases business people with their quiche families, you know;the beautiful skinny white girl who looks so innocent but when you even about look at her, she'll make sure you spend your life in the bin, the wonderful mother with a heart of gold to keep her forever angry husband at ease, sometimes it's the other way around, with the daughter being a son, or even both families together come to the restaurant to "catch up on business"

You must be wondering what business I have in the world of Beauty when I look like...well.... So let me explain to you, every beauty restaurant needs that one person who obviously. "Doesn't fit in" meaning that I have to put up with discrimination, bullying just to keep my job, but no matter how much I try to appear, beautiful...I can never be , or feel that way. So over time I have chosen to take the criticism and absorb it like a sponge in water, how else An i supposedly meant to look after my mother if the insecurities run my life.

I got out of the shower and wrapped  my towel around myself, I loved the smell of my shower gel , so sweet and fruity,the whole bathroom was steamy, I could barely see thing. I walked subconsciously to where the mirror should have been, I reached out my hand and moved it against the glass in a semi circular motion, the steam from the mirror instantly disappeared,I could see part of my face that looked pudgy and sweaty, but it was the water from the shower ,I sighed and inspected my eyes, hey looked lifeless, I have dark eyes, nothing special, one thing about being black is that my eyes are not special, my hair on the other hand, is a blessing, I wondered why my father could bless me with this hair but not have acknowledged it when I was younger my eyes are normal, but they slightly look Asian, I got that from my father too...I call him my father because he's the man that made me come into this world, a man who is part of me in blood, but is not worthy to be dad, to be 'my' dad...I hate him, I can't describe how much I hate what he did to us, but I don't also, because I pity him, he has no one, nothing to live for and mum and i, we have each other .

I frowned ad shook my head at the thoughts that i am having, un clenching my balled fists I decided to get dressed, I creamed myself with coco butter, and out on my underwear. The uniform that we wore is not like at the cafe, boys wear black trousers white long sleeves shirts black waistcoats and a wine red bow tie, us women have to wear  the same thing as the men except we exchange the trousers with black pencil skirts that are very hard to move in. I got my ironed uniform from wardrobe and places it on as neatly as I could. My hair had already hair dried so I run a toothy comb through it a few times before placing it into a bun at the back of my head. I placed on my black tights and flats, grabbed my usual jacket and bag before heading out of my room. I knocked on mums bedroom door and opened it when there was no answer. Looking around the room I watched my mother sleeping in her bed, she looks so beautiful when she sleeps, she looks at peace.  I smiled and shut the door quietly. In the kitchen I pulled out last nights left over dinner and served it on a plate I covered that plate with another One and placed a note next to it. Telling mum to try and microwave the food if she can.i sighed and ignored the hunger I was experiencing. Then went off to the bus stop.

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"Izzie!"  Behind me a voice that made my innards turn called, I fought to try and not be rude regardless of how nice this person is to me and turned around with a tight smile.