Downtown Orphanage

I wake from a restless sleep, to the noise of traffic bustling below my apartment that I  only recently had acquired. This was after deciding to move away from my parents, determined to make them proud by making it into the new technologically advanced prestigious university that opened up further downtown. 

My alarm goes off moments later, nearly sending me flying out of my new, overly cramped bed. The getting of which I know that I will regret for as long as I live here. Although, on the meager salary that I’ve been receiving from the job I have taken as of late, to assist around the local orphanage, it was the best I could afford, that would also fit in my small apartment. Of course, I am very grateful for the fact that I get the opportunity to both help the wonderful local children from the orphanage, as well as make enough money to get me through my years of university at once. 

I do, on occasion, feel bad as me taking this job means that a small fraction of money from what would otherwise go to the other part-timers will go to me. But  considering that fact, all of them seem to be very understanding, and all of them really do seem to need the help around there. Because of that, along with the fact that I have developed a good connection with the younger children, and would feel bad to leave them now, I have decided that at the very least for a while I will continue to work there after I have graduated from university. 

I had still been sitting there on the side of my bed, trying to remember what the alarm had been for. And as it dawned on me, I felt what I took as a wave of guilt and looked over at my alarm clock. "Oh, crap I'm gonna be late!" I shouted in an exasperated tone as I remembered that I had an early shift down at the orphanage today. I'm about to run out the door, as my phone begins to ring I ran over to my kitchen and found it on the counter by the stove, where I had left it the day before and picked up the call. “Hello?” I hesitantly answer.

“Good day, this is the director speaking.” I stand stiff, hearing the director’s familiar voice.

“Director Harshaw, I swear that I can explain why I'm not there at the orphanage right now. I promise you that it won’t happen again.” I begin to chatter in a slightly desperate tone of voice, interrupted by the voice on the phone.

“No need, Miss Smith. In fact, feel free to no longer come in. I’ve  already left this week’s pay in your mail. The orphanage has recently received a sizable donation, ensuring our future success regarding the upcoming renovations we have been planning to make for some time now. As such, we can afford new hires, and you have been relieved. Please have a good day, Miss Smith.”

The phone then hung up, leaving me standing there in my kitchen. I forgot to move for a moment, still holding the phone to my ear, even though there was no longer anyone on the other side of it. It takes me a moment to breathe again as I process that I am now jobless, essentially fired from the one thing I had to do well in order to succeed. Thoughts race through my mind as I contemplate what had just happened to make me feel this way, like a pit was in the process of being dug in my stomach. That job had been providing the funding I needed in order to survive away from my parents. It had been their idea to volunteer for the job down at the orphanage in the first place. They had also been assisting me in paying tuition to attend the classes at the university. I had hoped that this was going to open up career choices for my future. I hoped this was going to make them proud, by succeeding in life.

“What the hell am I going to tell my parents?” Finding a chair, I fold into it. I sit, still in the small apartment kitchen that I had run into to take the call, as a wave of momentary lightheadedness sweeps over me, leaving my legs feeling as if they would give out from the weight of what had just transpired. My mind goes blank, leaving me unable to process what to do next. 

“Do I call my parents?” I mutter aloud, very clearly hysterical with distress from the attempt at deciding what to do from here. “I wasn’t ready for this to happen.” And in the very moment that I begin to say this, I realize that I really had not been ready for any of this at all. Not just losing the job that I had been relying on to get me through these few years in university, away from my family, but living away from my parents at all. Among some other things that I have done in the past, I acknowledge that this has been one of the worst decisions I have made. I look up at the clock on the wall, seeing that I had been sitting there for quite a while, just thinking about my recent life choices up to this point, trying to figure out how I had allowed this to happen, and I was taught how one action, one tiny mishap could change my entire perspective on the boundaries of my life, how fragile my peaceful life I had chosen really was, especially with no plan forward incase something of this nature did occur. I had no plan, no connections on this side of town, other than those I had made through my parents at the orphanage, and those that I had been nurturing in the university, I knew very well that there was a good chance that I wouldn’t be able to acquire a new job in the time before my apartment’s rent was due. Especially considering my lack of connections around here, or even friends for that matter.

As I got up, making up my mind that I wouldn’t waste anymore time here feeling bad about myself and my choices, I heard a noise from my phone. After a moment, I recognized the sound as a bank notification, on the new account that I had set up only a few days earlier, preparing for my life alone. I went over to the counter where I had left my phone after the call, and picked it up to see what it was about. Seeing that a large sum, much more than enough to cover my tuition for university, as well as my life alone for quite some time. I stood there in my kitchen for a while after that, not quite able to process what had just happened.