"Amy!"

My boss's deep, gruff voice interrupted my routine process of scanning and bagging groceries.

"This is your last day" he stated plainly "you're fired." His voice never once changed it's tone.

"W-What" I forced out with a stutter, he was...firing me? He couldn't just do that, I didn't do anything wrong. I did not deserve...this.

"You can collect your check for the week after your shift" he continued. The barely perceptible upwards curve of his mouth told me that he took joy in my distress.

I despised him, and I'm sure he hated me as well because not a single shred of kindness could be found in his tone. The fact that he said this all if stating the weather told me he did not care, and no matter how much I cried or begged he still would not. He did not care that this was my last option. He did not care that no other establishment would accept a fifteen year old high school dropout, especially in a city like this.

In response, I gave a slight hollow nod of my head and continued my routine process of scanning and bagging of groceries. Attempting to cease a creeping feeling of odd emptiness from polluting my psyche

But it was only till I was sitting inside my boss's office, holding a measly check for thirty five dollars that the gravity of the situation truly set in. I was being fired. Cut off from my last and only means survival. Completely out of options.

The cheapest residencies in this god forsaken city are run down and gang infested. So utterly loathsome that even the "local government" refuses to acknowledge their existence. Cheap enough for even my low salary to afford.

But not anymore.

"Couldn't you reconsider?" I stated, my voice sounded as if it were coming through a twisted up straw

"Sorry," he began from behind his desk. "but we found someone who would work for even less than you." he spoke patronizingly as if he were mocking me for the crime of being less than him.

For a few seconds I sat there in contemplation, was I willing to doom my replacement to the same circumstances as mine? Mere seconds of thought was all it took to come to a conclusion. My innate will to survive winning out over any tiny grains of compassion that I still had left.

"Then I'll work for even less." My feigned confidence was given away by the trembling of my shoulders and the grinding of my teeth.

His lips curved upwards into a wicked, almost sinister smirk. "I barely managed to keep you hidden during the last 'government' checks," he said coldly, disdain dripping from each and every word. "This new employee is legal, and far less likely to 'go off the rails' than an adolescent orphan like you."

I had no chance to begin with. This "new employee" accepted less pay, was legal to employ, and far less likely to become a criminal than me. It was lost  cause to begin with.

"P-Please" I said, my voice taking on an edge of pleading. "This is my last option, you can't jus-

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"I can and I will," His voice was condescendingly nonchalant. "This is my work place and I can do what I want. Now get out of my office."

I stood up, and hurriedly left the room. Quickly wiping the beginning of tears from the corner of my eyes. It would not do to break down, at least not here. Not now.

I had no one at my workplace to say goodbye to. Not just because only the truly desperate dared to work nightshift, but because I never bothered to communicate with anyone here. Knowing that almost anyone there was hopeless enough to risk working at a time when the gangs are most active is a serious hamper to any sort of 'friendly' relationships.

So I left. Quickly, and seamlessly.

As I walked down the street towards my run down apartment, I pondered on what it would be like if my life was better than it was now. If I actually finished high school and my parents never died. If I was psychic. The thought of such things brought a self-deprecating  smile to my face. If I was a psychic my life wouldn't be so...painful.

"Hey!" A harsh voice broke me out of my contemplation

Looking around, I realized that I wandered into a dimly lit area. The shadowy zone between two street lamps.

A big mistake.

"Hey!" The voice repeated, this time louder. "Turn around and hand over your money bitch!"

I turned around and faced the speaker. He was dressed in a dirtied plain t-shirt with roughly tattered jeans. His face thin and sickly, eyes unfocused and wild. He was either on drugs or insane. Neither of which who likes to be denied.

But it was the blue-handled switch blade clutched in his twitching right hand that told me my life was truly at risk.

"O-Ok" I said, a chill ran down my neck to the base of my back.

I let out a shuddering breath as I reached into my jacket's inner pocket to retrieve my check, knowing full well he wouldn't be able cash it. But it was the only 'money' I could give him. A single month's rent didn't matter. I don't want to die.

He flinched at my sudden movement, then suddenly lunged forward, swinging his knife wildly. He moved like a threatened animal.

I jumped back quickly, but not fast enough to escape. The knife gashed my right eye causing me to momentarily shout in panicked alarm. But I had no time for pain I had to run.

I turned and ran, bursting into an uncoordinated sprint. But he was faster.

A heavy impact slammed into me from behind, causing me to fall face first into the ground. I tried to pick myself up with my hands, but he was already onto me. I felt something sharp dig into my neck, but I didn't have time to process it. My thoughts grew sluggish and my body grew heavier. I began wonder if I was going to die. I didn't...want to...die. Not...here. Not...now. Not...without...doing... Anything with ...my life.........

I awoke suspended in a vast expanse of darkness