4. A slap to reality

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One syllable. One face. One pair of deep green eyes. One bright smile. One melody. One name.

Cam

Sasha had met attractive and beautiful people in her life but Cam was top shelf. Although she knew it was completely nutty to keep thinking about her, Sasha couldn't help herself. She was dreaming of seeing her again and forget about the time with her. It was the feeling she had gotten while spending time with Cam, as if time had ceased to exist. And it had felt amazing.

For the very first time, Sasha didn't look at her phone every five seconds or refresh her email inbox every ten minutes. She didn't even check the time to see if it was medication time for her mother. She didn't think of the outside world at all. She remained focused on the reality in front of her eyes and spent what she officially called the best hour of her existence.

But when she came home and discovered her mother still in bed, unmoving, not showing the slightest sign of reactivity, her mood went back to being gloomy. It had the effect of a slap waking her up and sending her back to reality. A reality where her life was summarized with her mother and her job, while her useless illusions remained just that. Illusions.

Falling asleep was hard that night. As she held her comforter against her chin, Sasha was wondering if her life would ever take another direction. She loved her mother and she would never be able to abandon her, but she could feel constrained and pressured. Hadn't been for her mother, Sasha would have been studying in university, playing soccer, making friends, building a future. Instead, she was sleeping on a couch and working casual jobs to be able to eat and buy clothes.

Was that her destiny? Could she ever change the course of events? Ambition, she didn't lack of. Motivation and determination either. She was a well-grounded hard worker. For a twenty year old, Sasha had a lot of merit and probably had more contributed to society than her peers from this generation. The only box Sasha couldn't tick was education, as she only graduated high school. She would have loved to experience university but she couldn't, and she was certain that she was missing out on what could have been the best years of her life.

Sasha wondered if Cam was a student. Considering the profile of her pretended friend, she figured that the answer was yes. Then Sasha tried to imagine what degree she was in. If she based her thoughts on the way Cam had confronted her friend, she could picture her as a lawyer throwing herself body and soul into defending a wrongly accused client. Otherwise, she could imagine Cam taking sociology or philosophy and learning about tolerance and acceptance, hence her reaction to the other girl mocking her friend's religious beliefs.

Dreaming about Cam helped Sasha escape her miserable reality and allowed her to close her eyes and rest. As usual, the amount and quality of her sleep were questionable, but at least she had found a way to empty her mind and not concentrate on unsettling thoughts. By 7am, Sasha was showered, dressed, and ready to start her day. She treated herself with a full breakfast and prepared her own lunchbox, the latter being cheaper than buying a meal deal from a random store.

All morning, Sasha looked for Cam. Every time the tiny bell rang to indicate someone had entered the store, Sasha would bend over the counter to check if it was her. She felt stupid. Utterly stupid. She knew there was no point in hopelessly waiting for Cam to appear while the chances of it happening were amounting zero. So when came her lunch break, Sasha used this spare time to work on her feelings and thoughts and to be reasonable.

She had spent a good moment with Cam but she was just a customer among many others.

"How is your mother doing, sweetie?", Bernadette asked after Sasha had come back from her lunch break.

"Terrible. She's in her lowest peak right now so we need to be extra-careful. We wouldn't want her to harm herself."

"Have you ever tried sending her in a clinic when she hits this phase?"

"I explored the idea with her phychiatrist but it would be too expensive. One day of hospitalization is worth what my mother earns in a month", Sasha explained.

"What about the insurance? Do they not cover this type of treatment?", Bernadette asked.

"They can cover ten percent, which is hardly anything compared to the total."

"These insurance companies are worse than sharks. They're only good to empty your pockets and leave you to perish."

"I can't argue with that", Sasha said ironically.

"I'll be in the back room, okay?", Bernadette smiled warmly before walking through the door leading to the improvised office where she always ate her lunch and took her breaks and micro naps.

Since she needed to stay downstairs, Sasha decided to put some order around the cash desk while making sure not to move the important things. They both had their habits and it would not be a brilliant idea to disrupt them. She proceeded with the racks, putting the pieces of clothing back in their correct section and organizing them by shades. The afternoon was quite busy, many customers came and went, some dropping a bag for donation and some buying mountains of items. At least Sasha didn't get bored.

At the end of her working day, Sasha helped Bernadette close the store and made a quick stop by the supermarket to pick up shampoo and body soap since her bottles had strangely disappeared from the bathroom cupboard. She knew it was probably her mother's action so she bought two series of her shower products, one that would stay in the cupboard and one that would remain in the safety of her trunk.

On the one hand, her mother stealing from her was foreshadowing a possible improvement, but it also meant that the maniac side was already starting to chip in. Which was not good news for Sasha. These couple of days of mixed facets had always been the worst, Nicole having a propensity to become aggressive and violent when her two sides were fighting. Sasha couldn't wait for the normal period. It would temporarily releave her and allow her to enjoy some time with her mother.

When Sasha got home, the silence of the place held a peculiar vibe. She didn't feel safe. And when she discovered Nicole sitting at the kitchen table, trying to cut her arm with a plastic baby spoon, Sasha knew she was in for a long tiring night.

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