Chapter 1- Kirsty

Tank

Chapter 1

 Kirsty

2017

“Seriously? Are you kidding me right now?” I growled over the phone to the woman who had denied me yet another job. “You are supposed to be a consultant. You told me you wanted me as you had hundreds of clients and not many technicians. How has that changed in only a few months?” Karen stuttered on the phone. “Well, Miss Brooks, our clients aren’t needing as many technicians as they did when I first met you.” “When I first met you, you promised that if I signed up with your agency, you will have work for me daily. I’ve had 2 days in 3 months. That isn’t acceptable. I graduated top of my class from MIT. I am the best computer technician you will ever see. If your clients” I held my hands up and made quotations with my fingers, knowing damn well she couldn’t see, but just needing emphasis, you know? “knew about me, I can assure you, they would want me. I don’t think you are telling your clients about me though because you want me to stay at your agency. Well anyway, I don’t care. Take me off your books, I’m done working for you.” I hung up the phone with a tap of my finger. Not as liberal as hanging up used to be when you could literally slam the phone down, but whatever.

I sank back down on to the floor, noting the pile of ‘final notices’ that kept landing at my door every morning. What the hell would I do now? I was assured that with my qualifications and references, I would have my pick of any job I wanted. That didn’t happen though. I met Karen during a job fair through college. I graduated MIT last year, as I said before, top of my class.

I grew up in Ohio. I had the perfect family, my momma, daddy and big sister, Hannah. Then one day, when I was 7, my mom just up and left. I had no idea she was unhappy. My daddy started drinking all the time to get over my mom leaving. He was awful when he drank. He would blame my sister and I for my mom leaving, after about 2 years, my daddy started to hit us. We never had food in the house, and we were hungry all the time. Teachers started commenting, asking why we were so skinny. Nobody stepped in though. One of Hannah’s teacher used to bring in extra sandwiches for us both every day when she realized we didn’t bring food to school. She then made sure to fill in the forms for us to get school dinners.

Hannah left school when she was 16 and I was 11. She didn’t go to college because she needed a job to feed us. Nobody would hire a kid who dropped out of school though, so she ended up selling herself. I didn’t find this out until I was 15 and it was too late. My beautiful big sister had to sell herself to men to put money on our table because my useless fuck of a father couldn’t keep a job and would rather spend his benefits on drink than he would food to feed his kids. Hannah was struggling. She was 17, and broke. One of her clients introduced her to heroin. She ended up being addicted to the shit. She died when she was only 19 of a heroin overdose. I was 14 and lost the last person on the planet who actually gave a shit about me.

I left home shortly after that. My fuck head of a father didn’t even care when the police came to inform us of Hannah’s death. I couldn’t live there anymore. I moved out shortly after, preferring to live on the streets than with him.

That was where I met Eric. I was 16 and been living on the streets for almost 2 years. He was 19, so a little older than I was. We had a lot in common as he was homeless for a few years, after leaving home after his mom’s abusive boyfriend beat him badly when he was 15.

Eric met a man when he was 16, who helped him turn everything around, he gave him somewhere to live, paid for him to get set up. Eric then found a job and decided to study in the meantime. He was now a computer technician. Eric invited me to stay with him, at first, I thought he wanted me to have sex with him, but that wasn’t the case. Eric was just kind. He would come back to the tent I lived in every day. He would bring me soup, sandwiches, bottles of water and hygiene products. I started to trust him. He didn’t want anything from me. One day, he invited me to stay with him. I would live with him for 1 year and get my life sorted, I would get a job and study in the meantime.

I found a job at the local mini market and studied to be a computer tech like he was. I used to enjoy working on the computers in school before I dropped out. Eric would let me use his computer when I wasn’t working, and he would help me. We grew closer and then one night, he kissed me. We started a relationship, and it wasn’t long before I lost my virginity to him. We fell in love and everything was perfect. Then he had a visit from his mom. She had finally dumped the abusive boyfriend and needed Eric’s help getting back on her feet. He decided to move back to Florida, where he was from, to help her. He gave me the apartment, but I couldn’t stay there without him.

So that’s my back story. I could dwell on it and be ‘woe is me’ but I won’t. Living on the streets taught me how to be resilient, it taught me survival skills that I would never have had. I never witnessed any murders or rape, and I met a lovely bunch of people who genuinely cared about me. I decided to apply for college. I took all the exams I had missed in high school, on an online course, and passed them all with high marks. I applied for some of the best schools and local community colleges too, just in case I wasn’t accepted into one of the top schools. It was a few weeks later when I was accepted to MIT. So, I packed my stuff, moved out of the apartment, and went to live in Massachusetts. I moved back to Ohio after I finished college, aged 20.

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After dealing with Karen, I jumped online to find a job. I was desperate now. I applied for everything I could find. I was on my fourth website when an ad caught my eye. ‘Needed… a computer technician for a few hours work a week… pay to be disclosed during interviews….’ A few hours a week were barely anything, but if it helped me get some money in, then at least it would be a start. I called the number given.

“Dom speaking.”

“Hello, my name is Kirsty Brooks. I am calling regarding the advertisement on the job page?”

“Ah, hello Miss Brooks. So, what qualifications do you have?”

I told him about MIT and the agency I had been signed up for. He wanted to meet me, he wasn’t too far away from me, so we arranged a face-to-face interview for the following day.

The next day, I was travelling to the café that I was going to meet Dom at. I was wearing my black pant suit and a pair of heels. I hated heels but they looked more professional, so I had to deal with them. I found the café Dom wanted to meet me at and headed inside. Right away, I spotted him. He was sitting in the back wearing a dark suit. He looked like he was in his fifties, dark hair, greying in some places. I could see he had kind eyes. “Dom?” I asked cautiously. He stood up, greeting me with a smile. “Miss Brooks, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held his hand out to shake mine. “Can I get you anything to drink?” He asked, “A coffee would be lovely, thank you.” I asked. He nodded and called the waitress over. “Two coffees please.” He ordered.

“So, Miss Brooks, let me tell you a little bit about the job first and then you can tell me if it sounds like what you are looking for.” I nodded as he continued. “You will only be needed for around 3-4 hours per week. It will involve general technician work, updating servers, certifying the computer infrastructure remains updated. Just general work that we need really, everything you would have done at MIT. The pay will be $100 per hour. What do you think?”

$100 per hour? That is a lot of money!

“I’m sorry, you did say $100 an hour, right?”

He smiled, “yes I did. I know you won’t have a lot of work and we may need you more than the 3 hours a week, which is why I want to pay more per hour so you will always be available. I am basically giving you a full weekly pay just for 3 hours work.” He explained. Wow, that is a hell of a lot of money for just doing what he asks. It makes sense that he needs me at his beck and call though. “Ok, when would I start?” I asked. “In the next few weeks.” I thought about it for a few moments. What would I have to lose?

“Ok Dom, I would love to work for you.”

“Excellent,” he smiled, shaking my hand. “I will be in touch.” He stood up and left the coffee house. I finished my drink and followed him, with an extra spring in my step.