Chapter Two - Eviction notice

I barely made to the bus station with Mrs. Collins without having her stop us to rest every three minutes. The old woman was slow and she had a busted ankle to add to the whole delima but I didn't mind. She needed me, and I was her nurse. I wasn’t about to let her catch the wrong bus or miss it because I was selfish. Especially after witnessing one hell of a show at my clinic.

After seeing that damn disaster unfold at my clinic, Part of me wanted to walk away, throw my hands up and quit. But that place was my dream, my whole damn life’s work. I busted my ass through nursing school, put in hours I’ll never get back just to make it a reality.

I got myself the clinic, helped out as much as I could with the little I had, making a difference in people’s lives. Yeah, the debt was suffocating, and the stress was never-ending, but I refused to let all that hard work go to waste. The dream wasn’t dead. I wasn’t going to let it fade away without giving it one last fight. I wasn’t backing down. Not now. Not ever.

Once I made sure Mrs. Collins was safely on her way home, I dragged myself back to my place.

The whole day had been one bad decision after another, a complete disaster. I stood there at the front door for a moment, staring at the piled-up mail and envelopes stacked haphazardly just outside. It's been a long day and I was pretty sure it was going to be a longer one, maybe a longer night. I scooped up the mess, shoved my keys into the keyhole, wiggling it till I heard the click and pushed the door open.

Dropping everything onto the coffee table, moving on autopilot, too exhausted to care, too drained to do anything but fall onto the couch. My head was throbbing, and the tightness in my chest wasn’t helping.

After a moment, I reached for the stack of mail sitting on the table, the pile of bills that had accumulated over the week, waiting for me to face them. I went through the mail like usual. Mostly bills, some junk, stuff I didn’t really care about. I picked up envelope after envelope, barely glancing at them. Then I got to one that felt different—stiff and not like the rest. I pulled it out, shrugged, and flipped it over.

Bold black letters that made my stomach drop.

Eviction Notice.

Great. Just what I needed. Just when I thought the universe might cut me some slack? My apartment, my last damn slice of sanity, was about to be snatched away too.

I blinked at the paper, trying to get my shit together. This was my life on paper, staring back at me. I’d known it was coming—hell, I’d been expecting it for days. But seeing it in writing, seeing the exact deadline, made everything feel more real.

My fingers trembled as I slid the letter from its envelope, eyes scanning the words. The date of delivery, two days ago. It wasn’t even new. The notice had been delivered two days before now, but I was only now getting the time and headspace to open it.

My breath caught in my throat as I reread the bold words, trying to wrap my brain around what was happening. A week. No—five days. Five days left to pack up, figure out where to go, what to do, how to fix everything.

And just like that, I was stranded. With bills to pay. Debt to settle. And now with nowhere to go.

I threw the letter onto the table and sank deeper into the couch, my head resting against the back, staring up at the ceiling.

The fact that I couldn’t even keep my roof over my head was now becoming a major problem. I need to do something. I had to try and at least get extra more days before I'm officially homeless.

So, I grabbed the phone, and dialed the landlord’s number. We needed to come to an agreement or I'll be back in the street quicker than a hurricane about to hit.

It rang once. Twice. Then, finally, he picked up.

“Yeah?”

His rough voice came through the line.

“Hi, Mr. Harris,”

I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“It’s Scarlett. I got the eviction notice.”

He didn’t even hesitate before firing back.

“Yeah, I know. You’re behind on rent, and I can’t keep doing this ordeal we have going on between you and me.”

“I understand, but—”

“No buts,”

he interrupted.

“You’ve had your chance. The money’s not coming in, and I’m not running a charity. I don’t know what to tell you. A week’s all I can give you, and then you’re out.”

I swallowed, my throat tightening, but I had to convince him somehow

“I get it–”

I said, trying to sound like I was handling this with grace.

“But can't we come up with like an alternative, a week is not enough Mr Harris"

He scoffed on the other end.

“Don’t act like you didn’t see this coming, Scarlett. You’ve missed five months of rent. FIVE. I’ve been patient, but I’ve got my own bills to pay.”

I felt the heat rise in my chest.

“But I told you I’m doing everything I can. You know this is temporary. I’ll pay you as soon as I get the money, I swear.”

“Temporary? Ha! You’ve been saying that for months. I’m not keeping you around for free. The bank doesn’t care about your excuses, and neither do I.”

“Come on Mr Harris, I can’t just leave in a week!”

I shouted, my voice thick with emotion. So much for trying to settle this gracefully

“What do you want me to do? Where am I supposed to go?”

“Not my problem,”

he said flatly.

“I’ve got a ton of people looking for a place, and you’re not the only tenant here. I blew up all my chances on you Scarlett. Either you pay rent or go home to where ever the fuck you came from"

He barked

“Are you kidding me?”

I shot back. Getting up from the Coach and heading to the kitchen.

“You can’t just throw me out. This isn’t fair. I’ve been a good tenant. You’ve never heard a complaint about me. Ever. Just help me out this time. Give me more time.”

“Don’t play with me Scarlett. Good tenant or not, I want my money. I can't wait anymore than five days. Are we clear?”

There was a brief silence, the kind that hung in the air and made everything feel even worse.

“Yes sir"

I said finally, accepting defeat.

"I’ll get you your money”

“Good luck with that,”

he muttered before hanging up.

I dropped the phone back onto the counter, not even bothering to look at it. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

The clinic was barely hanging on, I had no way to pay off the loan sharks, and now I was about to be out on the streets. Funny how life just keeps piling stuff on until there’s nothing left to hold up and you crumblr for it's had enough.

The apartment was dead quiet, except for the hum of the fridge and the occasional drip from the leaky faucet in the bathroom.

I shuffled to the fridge, hoping for something, anything. Of course, there was nothing—just three cans of beer and a pack of bottled water.

Fuck I forgot to restock. I'm too broke to restock

I grabbed a can of beer, cracked it open, and made my way back to the living room and collapsed onto the couch.

I stared at the eviction notice, my eyes stuck on the bold, black letters, cracking my brain for a solution. None ever came.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to think straight. My brain was a damn mess, racing from one thought to the next. I could call my family... but that was pointless. I haven't spoken to them in eight years. I was that shameful daughter they would kick to the curve and completely forget about. I had no contact with them and I planned on not having to.

I had no Friends. I wish I had but sometimes it was better off being on your own than having people befriend you to take from you. I had to learn that the hard way. I was on my own and things were getting harder.

No backup plan. No options left. Everything was falling apart.

I could try to fix it. Maybe the clinic would turn around, but that was a joke. I could barely keep it together as it was. And now I could barely get myself a place to stay.