Chapter 2

Anna

Once I discovered that Santa Claus had long since passed away, decades before my own arrival into this world, nothing seemed to catch me off guard anymore. Frankly, it both perplexes and irritates me when people anticipate my feigned shock and amazement, when in fact I had long predicted the outcome.

Allow me to recount a comparable experience. On the eve of my birthday, my ex-boyfriend, now proudly labeled as such, posed the classic question: “What would you like for your birthday?” I requested a bracelet, and as anticipated, he handed me one the following day. However, he expected me to put on an act of surprise and astonishment, as if I were an impressionable child on Christmas morning. What absurdity! I had long known he would purchase a bracelet for me.

As I bade farewell to my colleague at the coffee shop, I brushed aside a nagging thought that had been troubling me all day. The crisp air outside the cozy interior of the cafe hit me like a slap in the face, making me regret not bundling up before stepping out. The bus stop was a long thirty-minute walk away, so I plugged in my earphones and set out with a determined stride.

As I strolled down the deserted street, lost in thought and the rhythm of the music, I became aware of a strange sensation - a feeling of being watched. I looked around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. However, the sensation persisted and soon morphed into something more sinister - the sense of being followed. My heart rate quickened as I fumbled to pull out one earphone, and then the other.

It was then that I saw them - a group of five burly men, all huddled together, their eyes trained on me. I froze, panic rising like bile in my throat. I knew I had to stay calm, but it was hard to ignore the primal instinct screaming in my ear to flee.

Summoning all my courage, I turned to face them and spoke in a calm, steady voice. "How may I assist you, gentlemen?" I asked, keeping my tone polite but firm, hoping they would take the hint and leave me alone.

“A message from the boss.” The one with an ugly scar on his face responded with a gruff voice. He slapped a big brown on my chest.

Still not getting where this was going, I tore open the seal holding the envelope and dipped my hand into it. Pulling out the content of the envelope, I frowned when I saw it was a letter from a man called V.

Who signs a letter with just V?

Lifting my head to ask the young men who exactly this came from, I discovered that I was standing alone in the lonely street, the hefty men long gone. Shocked and definitely surprised, I dashed off without looking back or stopping. My feet kept thrashing on the wet floor until I got to the bus station.

On reaching home, I made sure to lock my door and all the windows before dropping my bag and the letter on the bed. I stood above the bed and stared at the reason for my fear, too afraid to read the content of the letter.

Opting to take a shower first, I walked into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and took my time showering, a futile attempt to delay reading the letter.

Warming the leftover noodles, I walked over to the bed, plopped down, and finally grabbed the letter. With each word, I felt like I was either losing my mind or they were losing their mind.

According to the letter, I was expected to pay off a debt, allegedly owed by my father. This doesn’t make sense; no matter how I try to look at it, I can’t seem to understand what my father did with four hundred and fifty thousand dollars; I mean except for the candies he placed under the Christmas tree under the disguise of Santa Claus, he did absolutely nothing for me and my mother.

Not only was I expected to pay that ridiculous amount, but I was also told to pay it off within a week or they will be forced to take action and I totally understand what they meant by that; I’m no kid and I’ve seen many movies to understand what they are insinuating.

I work my ass off to pay the three thousand dollar bills to the mental institution where my mum is currently staying and I have sent in the bill for the month. Where in fuck name am I supposed to get four hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

My ringtone snapped me out of my thought. Dropping the already cold noodles on the floor, I reached for my phone but frowned when I saw the name of the mental institution on my phone. I contemplated letting it go into voice mail but on second thought, I clicked on the answer icon.

“Anna Scott,” I mumbled, waiting for the familiar voice to fill my ear.

“Greystone Mental Institution.” The voice stated robotically and I rolled my eyes. “we are calling to inform you that we’ve received your monthly payment.”

Of course, that’s why they called; it’s never good news with them. If only they will return the money or give me a discount, my life will be very much better.

“Are you still there miss Scott?” the voice asked.

“Yes,” I breathed out, “sorry about that.” I am far from being sorry for zoning out on them. I know they aren’t the reason for my problem, but it is much easier to take out my frustration on them.

”No problem ma’am, thanks for choosing Greystone Mental Institution.” with that, the line went dead.

Starfishing the bed, I thought about just how fucked up my life is at the moment. Nothing ever turns out well for me in this life, it's either one problem or the other. Closing my eyes, I welcomed the blissful hands of sleep.

******

I heard something, but it sounded very far away and the more I tried to block it off, the clearer and closer the sound became. Groaning, I opened my eyes, only to discover that my alarm clock was the reason for my discomfort.

Craning my neck, I checked the time; five o’clock in the morning. Shutting the damn alarm up, I rolled off the bed to get ready for work, and by five-fifty-five, I was already on my way to work.

As usual, Debbie was already there, cleaning the shop “Girl, I swear, you rise with the cock. I am really looking forward to the day I'll be here before you.”

She looked up and smiled at me. “When you talk about cocks, please be more specific because I’ll definitely like to rise with the cocks.”

“Jeez, Debbie! you have such a dirty mouth and it totally contradicts your face.” Shaking my head, I walked over to the coffee machine. “For a moment, I thought it was too early for you to start talking trash.” Trust Debbie to always spit out the words that come to mind.

“I appreciate your dry sense of humor.” She deadpanned. “Speaking of faces, did you sleep at all last night? you look like a walking corpse” she pointed out

My face scrunched as I tried not to think about yesterday's events “Nay, I didn't sleep much.” That old witch of a neighbor kept me up last night. “Debbie,” She glanced at me. “If you happen to owe someone a certain amount of money and you couldn't pay up before the expected date, what are you going to do?”

She stared at me unblinkingly. “Are you owing someone, Anna?” When I didn’t respond, she pressed further with her questions. “How much are you owing? You know I can lend you some money.”

I smiled, very grateful that I have a friend willing to help but somehow I doubted if she has $450,000 to spare “I do not owe anyone not unless you count my electricity bills.”

“Then why ask me such questions if you do not owe anybody?”

Shrugging, I searched for something to keep me busy. “Someone asked me that question yesterday but I couldn't come up with any answer.”

Her big brown eyes stared at me, her brows slightly tucked in.“Please don't ask negative questions, it brings negative vibes.”

Now I had to laugh out loud, I mean who is this young woman “You do realize you’re in your late twenties right?”

“Yes, I know my age, Anna.” She rolled her eyes at me. “Why do you keep asking me strange questions?”

"I’m asking you strange questions because you talk like my grandma.”

She raised one of her perfectly trimmed brows "Ha-ha very funny. Why don't you carry your lazy self over to the counter and do some cleaning before the customers start coming in.”

Smiling at how bossy she sounded right now, I walked towards the counter “Yes ma'am.” When I got to the counter, I made a silent prayer, praying that today passes with no surprises.