Chapter 4

Dawn Turner

"Good morning, is this Dawn Turner speaking?" A voice asked through the speakers of my phone.

"Yes, this is her-- Me. I mean me." I laughed nervously.

"This is Carol Jensen. I'm the owner of the art gallery 'Funzel'. You submitted your resume a week ago, is that correct?" She asked. She seemed to have a kind voice which helped calm my nerves a bit.

"Yes it is. I'm in desperate need for a job and I love art so I really hope I can get an interview with you."

I actually did not care that much about art. And it's probably not a good idea to tell your potential future boss that you're desperate but I'm 24 years old now and still have no job so when my friend recommended this art gallery, I had to apply.

"Ah, yes of course. Does today at five seem good for you?" She asked.

"Yes, it’s great. Thank you so much for this opportunity!" I made sure not to tell her that literally any time is good for me since I never leave my house anyway.

"Sure thing! Don't disappoint us." She laughed in a friendly way.

"I'll try not to." I replied confidently and ended the call.

I might be lazy but when it comes to making money, I'll give it my all. It's always been a dream of mine to be able to support my mom and provide her with all her needs since she spent so many years raising me up without a dad.

I might not show it a lot but I'm very grateful to have her in my life.

"You got the job?" My mother asked, jumping up and down in excitement.

"Not yet, but I did get an interview! Now all I have to do is try and not mess it up." I shrugged, trying to hide the fact that I was actually incredibly nervous about this.

Not only have I been born with incredibly bad luck but also after the whole 'Fallen angel is trying to kill me' fiasco, I've been paranoid at all times and felt more attached to my mother. I know he’s still able to get to me with my mother around but it made me feel relieved to know that she was not at her house all alone with a certain fallen on the loose. At least now I can keep an eye on her.

Also I may or may not have bought a pan for every room in my apartment.

My mom thought I was going crazy but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

"Did you pick your outfit for this interview?" My mother asked me. I shook my head, preparing myself for what's about to come. If anyone knows my mother, it's me. She won't leave me alone until she is satisfied with what I wear, how I wear it and how I'll style my hair while wearing it. "Are you up for a complete makeover?" She asked with a huge smile on her face.

"If I said no, would you still proceed to give me that makeover?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yup!" She held my hand and dragged me up to my room.

This has got to be every child’s nightmare. There’s no denying that there’s a whole generation gap between parents and their kids so when they offer to help you get dressed, you just know shit is about to go down.

"Mom, I look like a stripper." I stated with a frown stamped on my face. I can tell she’s trying her best to give me a modern day makeover but she went a little overboard.

"You do not!" She exclaimed then looked at my outfit again. "Okay, maybe a little. Try these on then." She handed me a black shirt matched with tight pants. After that, she gave me black leather ankle boots. "And to break the whole all-black look we got going on here…" She handed me a pink shoulder bag next.

"I actually like this." I smiled while looking at my outfit in the mirror. It’s very minimalist, just my style. "I'm keeping my hair loose." I told her and she nodded. I saw her grab her makeup bag making me shake my head in panic. "No makeup!"

I actually didn’t mind makeup but when my mom does it, I always end up looking like an actual clown that had just finished running a marathon.

It’s not pleasant to look at, especially not at a job interview.

"Oh come on, just a little bit!" She whined. I shook my head again and pointed at my outfit.

"I wore this for you, no makeup."

"Fine, no makeup. You already look beautiful anyway." She hugged me and I returned it with a smile.

If that fallen even thinks about getting anywhere near my mom, he’s dead. I don’t know how I’ll do it but I’ll find a way. "Mom, keep this pan with you at all times and don't hesitate to use it. If worse comes to worst, It's considered self-defense." I handed her the pan that I had previously placed on my bed.

"Okay?" She took the pan and left my room confused.

With one final glance in the mirror, I decided it was finally time to go.

The drive to the museum is quick, which makes it more convenient for me to get this job. My only friend, Skylar, is the one that told me about this place. She knows I’ve been struggling with finding a job and it’s been stressing me out for months so she pulled some strings and made this possible. I’m supposed to meet her after my interview so I hope I can greet her with good news instead of news about how I’m never finding a job or making money and how I’m going to die alone of hunger, coldness, and misery.

The museum is huge but I unfortunately couldn’t enjoy looking at the art works for long because the closer I got to the room, the more nervous I felt. I wiped my hands on my pants when I felt beads of sweat forming on my palms.

How am I going to shake her hand?

"It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Turner!" The owner of 'Funzel' smiled at me and shook my hand lightly. She was very pretty and sounded just as kind in person as she did on the phone. Working at an art gallery with a cool boss? I have to get this job.

"You as well." She motioned for me to take a seat and I did. "I just wanted to let you know that I am a very dedicated person when I want to be and I will try my best to be an amazing employee." I nervously ranted before she even asked me the questions.

"I am very well certain of that, Miss Turner. You seem like a great person." She chuckled, leaning on her desk. "I was quite impressed with your resume and I just wanted to ask you a few things." She continued. I nodded and motioned for her to ask me. "Are you interested in the hearts of this new generation?"

"Uh...excuse me?" I asked awkwardly.

"Are you interested in the arts of this new generation?" She repeated quietly.

"Oh yes, I am. I spend most of my time looking at art works online and it never seizes to amaze me just how talented and creative people can be." I replied, trying to keep my smile intact.

I'm pretty certain she said hearts but maybe it was an accident.

"Interesting. And how did you find out about Rapunzel?" My heart dropped. Not this name again. I tried to calm my breathing but I was failing. 

"I-uh...what?"

"I asked; how did you find out about Funzel?" She gave me a concerned look. "Are you okay Miss Turner?" 

No I'm not okay. I can't tell if you're saying what I think you’re saying or I'm just hearing things wrong.

"Yes I'm fine. I'm sorry about that. Um...My friend knows that I love art and I’m looking for a job so she told me about this place. I did some research online and felt like it's different from other galleries so it seems like a great place to work at." She nodded and took notes.

I need to get my shit together.

"I'm going to ask you to kill this." She smiled creepily.

"Kill?" I asked with an uncertain smile. I'm pretty sure I looked constipated.

"Fill..." She gave me a weird look and handed me a form. I swore in my head.

I was sweating again at this point and felt very on edge. I don't know what's wrong with me today but I hope it has nothing to do with a certain fallen angel.

"Oh, yes of course!" I took the paper and pen from her hand and started filling out the form.

God, if you're listening to me, please give me the patience to get through this day because I seriously need this job.

The rest of the interview was pretty uneventful. I, thankfully, stopped hearing creepy words and continued answering her questions in a very polite manner. I hope that gives me some extra points in her head because I felt like she got weirded out by me during the first couple minutes of the interview. I really don’t blame her.

I’m now walking bedside my friend at the mall, updating her on today’s events, but she’s not even taking it seriously. "I'm telling you Skylar, I kept hearing different words!" I complained. She continued shoving fries in her mouth.

"Let's think about this logically, what do the words 'Heart, Rapunzel, and Kill' have in common?" She asked nonchalantly.

The weird fetish of a certain Fallen Angel is what I wanted to say but chose not to.

"I don't know. Unless they wrote a whole new fairytale about Rapunzel being a killer and stabbing people until their hearts stopped beating and they died, then this makes no sense!" I exclaimed, letting out an angry huff. I could feel my face turn red from stress and I hated it.

"I would so watch that." Skylar nodded impressed at my idea.

"Same actually but that’s not the point. Can we go get some new dresses for your party now?" I grabbed her now empty box of fries and threw it in the bin.

"Sure, let's go." She grabbed my hand and walked me to a shop I knew all too well. They sold incredibly good looking dresses at an incredibly affordable price.

Skylar is having a party next week and she keeps telling me that I don’t have to go if it makes me uncomfortable since parties aren’t really my thing but I feel bad about always missing out on them so I just agreed to go.

"Oh my God, this dress is perfect." She pointed at a gorgeous black dress that I assume would look great on her. All dresses usually do.

"You would look so hot in that! You can go try it on while I look for a dress myself." I smiled at her and continued my hunt for something decent to wear at the party. Soon enough, my eyes fell on a white and golden dress and I gasped. I know I would never be able to pull it off but I still took the dress and went into the fitting room to try it on.

I stripped down to just my underwear and heard a knocking on the door of the cubicle I was in. "Taken!" I yelled, placing my clothes on the bench. I heard knocking again and it pissed me off. "I said it's taken!”  I glared at the door, expecting it to stop, but the knocking got louder and this time, I was fuming. I knocked back hard on the door from the inside. "T-A-K-E-N. TAKEN!"

Weirdly enough, the knocking actually stopped.

The silence did not last long though because I heard something that almost made me piss myself.

"How feisty! Me likey." I heard the voice of devil man himself; whose name I still don't know, coming from behind me.

I quickly turned around, panic written all over my face, and there he was. In all his glory, standing right in front of me.

Did I mention that I was only in my underwear?