"Where are you, Cixi?"
"Marion! I'm about to leave home. Could you please make an excuse for me until I get there? I need twenty minutes!" Cixi held the phone between her shoulder and ear while pulling on her black winter boots.
The leather was worn out, with tiny scratches on its surface. She had found the pair abandoned on the street a week ago during one of her walks back from college. The fur lining inside was the reason she kept them, and it helped to keep her feet warm on the long walks from her residence to where she worked. She was an orphan, and her relatives didn't take her in after her parents' death because they couldn't afford to feed an extra mouth.
She worked part-time for a company that employed a large staff of cleaning professionals.
"Don't... Don't come, Cixi. He is in a foul mood." Marion's warning caused Cixi to pause, one leg still lifted as she struggled to zip up the back.
"What?" Placing her foot slowly on the floor, Cixi asked as if she hadn't understood it correctly.
"The horn-dog asked me to inform you," Marion forced herself to continue, and hated how the manager constantly made her give all the bad news to Cixi while he was busy exploiting other employees. "That he asked you to come at three. But we are already at five. So he asked you not to come today, and your today's salary will be deducted from the monthly check."
"But I wrote to him!" Cixi said in disbelief. "Most of the public transport was delayed or cancelled because of the heavy snowfall. My college is an hour away. And all this I explained to him through the message the moment I heard the lines were closed." She rubbed her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut, irritation pulsing behind them. "How difficult was it for my message to get through his dickhead skull? Should I have messaged him in horny language?... He never stops picking on me?!" She let out a humourless breath. "At this point, I'm convinced that if the city were drowning in a flood, and people were dying, he would still insist I rent some scuba gear, put it on, swim through it, and show up on time." Cixi was beyond frustrated. Out of agitation, at times, numerous violent ideas raced through her mind, which only ended with him being admitted to the hospital for at least 6 months. However, she didn't linger on them. She did not want to go to prison. But they came all the same.
Marion mirrored Cixi's feelings. "I feel you, sweetheart. I did mention the same thing regarding public transport, but his response was, 'You shouldn't have gone to college when you were aware of the snowfall.'"
"But it only started to snow heavily after 11 am. How should I have known?!" Cixi exclaimed. She wasn't asking Marion, rather venting her frustration over her insufferable dickhead of, manager who seemed to relish making her life as miserable as possible.
"You should have checked the weather before leaving your home. That was his reply when I made the same point before him. And guess what, many didn't turn up today, but it's only your salary that is getting deducted. Asshole," Marion cursed him from the bottom of her heart. "He must have been born after the death of a thousand cunning hyenas."
Cixi leaned back against the wooden door, holding her phone to her ear. This man never stops. He enjoys making her life a hell. If she were a mere two minutes late to arrive at the office, he would cut her pay by an hour. If she protested, he would send her to more houses, giving her less time between jobs. "What have I done to deserve this?" Cixi questioned. "I just don't get what his problem is with me?!"
"Don't break your head, girl. Have faith! Pray to heaven, and everything will be okay! Who knows, God might hear our prayer one day and the horn-dog slips from the staircase to never wake up," came Marion's heartfelt wish. "That bastard is harassing you for rejecting his dinner invitation. He must pay for it."
"Maybe I should have accepted it," said Cixi, although the words tasted bitter the moment they left her mouth.
"No!" Marion bellowed. "Don't ever say something like that," she exhaled angrily. "Listen! We all understand you. Most of the women working here do. And we are proud of you, Cixi, the way you stood your ground." Marion's voice held pride in her friend. "We didn't have a choice but to bend to his whim because we have families to feed... But you do have a choice! Not that I am saying being in your shoes is easy. No! But sometimes I wish I were alone like you. Maybe life would have been easier and easier to make choices."
"The other side seems greener," Cixi stated in a depleted voice. It sounded distant even to her own ears. She let her gaze drift around her small studio, from the worn sofa to every corner. "Standing up to him doesn't pay my bills," she whispered.
A shiver crept through her shoulders as the room began to get colder. The room heater was off. She couldn't afford the extra cost, not when every bill already felt like a gamble. "I have wanted to leave this job more times than I can count." Marion listened to her friend patiently. "But no one else pays better than this company to a student." And a long silence stretched between the two friends.
A former employee once reported the manager to upper management. Rather than terminating the manager, the victim was let go with fraud charges. Since that incident, everyone has become quiet about the manager's misconduct.
"Sweetheart, I am sorry. But I have to get back to work." Marion glanced at her wristwatch. "I'll reach out to you later. And let me remind you, it's more comfortable to stay indoors and stay warm than to go out in this weather. Listen to the music, drink warm coffee, and stay under a blanket! Ok?"
Cixi hummed in response, not revealing to her friend that she preferred working so she could keep herself warm in those luxurious apartments where the heating was always set to a cosy temperature, and no one seemed to bother about skyrocketing bills. However, her friend didn't need to know all the unpleasant aspects of her life. Marion has her own issues... A gambling husband with numerous debts and three children to care for.
After hanging up the call, Cixi sat on an old wooden chair near the window, not taking off her thick black jacket, which was pulled tight around her. She rubbed her palms together, trying to coax warmth into them as she watched the snow fall outside, which hadn't stopped for hours.
Snowfall looked like tiny pieces torn from cotton candy. For a moment, it tempted her to step outside, to see if it would feel as soft as it looked and if it might taste sweet. She let out a small, breathy chuckle before she rubbed her stomach. She hadn't eaten anything since morning. That was probably why her thoughts were starting to wander, why even snow could begin to look edible. From the sixth story, the street looked almost peaceful.
She wrapped her arms around herself as the cold crept in through the walls, through the surface below, through the thin glass. Her breath clouded the window. She wiped it away with her sleeve and leaned closer, following the lazy drift of snow past the streetlight. Down below, men lingered at the corners of the building. One laughed at nothing. Another slipped a needle into his arm with practised ease.
The building had many tenants, and the floor she lived on was busy. Her living space was small, consisting of just one room with a sofa bed and a low table. The kitchen was part of the room, with only a counter, a sink, and a kettle against the wall. Luckily, the washroom had a door that separated it from her one-room apartment.
Her stomach growled. She exhaled and shifted her weight, as if pretending not to hear it might help.
A sudden shout jolted her. No matter how many years she spent living there, she would never acclimate to it.
Cixi heard voices arguing from the apartment next to hers. A man shouted, and then she heard a thud. His wife screamed and began to cry. The crying went on, and Cixi hugged herself tighter.
Across the hall, another sound came. The young man who owns the pizza delivery place was cursing passionately in Italian, followed by the erotic moans of two women who were clearly enjoying themselves. One was getting spanked, and the other was getting boned. Cixi cursed her ears, which have a talent for picking up even the faintest whispers through the wall. She shook her head. This Italian neighbour always needs two or more, as if one isn't enough to quench his appetite.
She heard one door slam.
Another opened.
And everything became noisy all of a sudden. She turned away from the window and sat on the sofa. The cushion dipped under her weight. For a moment, she rested her elbows on her knees and stared at the floor.
Then she took out her phone. The screen faintly lit up the room. She opened her banking app to check her balance once more.
$12.23.
Her eyes lingered on the number for quite some time. Two days until the end of the month, and then she will receive her salary. Her stomach answered again, louder this time. She pressed her lips together and lowered the phone into her lap. She decided to sleep until morning.