Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 122206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I left Carlow one week ago, but I didn’t do so with the permission of Daddy or my now ex-boyfriend, Finn. I ran away. I informed the local Gardaí that I was moving on because I knew Daddy or Finn would report me missing if they could. Since I had left, I hadn’t regretted a single second of it, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t absolutely terrified because I was. Getting over the initial excitement of being free and out on my own came with a wave of new fears like finding a job and somewhere safe to live. I was also so scared that Daddy and Finn would show up and drag me back home kicking and screaming. I had switched to using my mother and granda’s surname of O’Shea rather than my birth surname, O’Reilly.
It was what kept me looking over my shoulder.
I was physically and mentally exhausted, but I was determined to end my day with all my new items in their new spot. I lifted a small box of kitchenware and turned, but as soon as I took a few steps, the bottom of the box gave way, and everything fell and clanked against the floor … and my bare feet.
“Fuck!” I screamed and stumbled backwards, throwing the piece of shit cardboard box against the wall. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”
I smacked my hands against the kitchen counter and kicked against the press doors in pure frustration. Everything was so fucking hard. I had a massive stroke of luck landing a lease with my apartment. I couldn’t have prayed for anything better. However, while it was fully furnished, I had to buy the rest of the necessities needed to live in a home. After taking the train to Dublin, spending a week in the hostel, and buying food each day, I was down to three thousand and eighty-three euros.
Dublin was expensive.
Nineteen hundred euros from that would now be set aside in the new bank account I opened the second I got to Dublin and had an address at the hostel. That large chunk of money was for my first month’s rent and the matching security deposit. The remaining money paid for what I currently needed in my new home. I bought a duvet and pillows as well as covers for them and a fitted sheet and mattress protector for my mattress. I purchased a small amount of kitchenware, just enough items for what one person would need. I bought toiletries, feminine hygiene products, cleaning supplies, and I did a full food shop in Aldi and Lidl, which was pricey because I had absolutely nothing in my kitchen presses. I knew I could get by without anything else until I found a job. After my day of spending and paying for a taxi to bring me to The Peak with all of my possessions, I was down to five-hundred euros on the dot.
I needed to get a job, and I needed to get one as soon as possible.
I bent down to pick up the remaining delph on the floor. I was so relieved that the cup, bowl, and plate I bought weren’t broken or chipped. I wouldn’t have been able to replace them if they had. The toll of the day, the past week really, suddenly hit me, and I burst into tears as I put the items on the kitchen counter. I dragged my feet as I walked out into the hall, leaned back against the front door, and slid down until my behind touched the floor.
I had always wanted an independent life, but I never knew it’d be so daunting.
I jumped when I felt heavy vibrations on my back. I didn’t have my hearing aids in, so the only sounds I could hear were incredibly muffled and hard to decipher. I got to my feet when I realised someone was banging on my door. I unlocked the door, put my hand on the handle, and was ready to give out to whoever was pounding on it until I saw the time. Four o’clock in the morning. Shite.
I think I just woke up a few of my new neighbours with my breakdown.
“This is all I feckin’ need.”
I pulled my door open and stared at a tall, shirtless man with a thrashing child in his arms. The man had dark chocolate brown hair and a tightly trimmed, well-maintained beard to match. He glared down at me with eyes of sky blue. I sniffled and watched as his gaze softened and a frown tugged at his baby-pink lips. His eyes rolled over me before they found mine once more.
I couldn’t hear his voice, but I could read his lips when he said, “Are ye okay, love? Why’re ye cryin’?”
A look of genuine concern washed over the stranger’s face, and emotion gripped me once more. It had been a long time since anyone had ever been truly concerned about me, and seeing a stranger show signs of worry for me was too much to handle. More tears fell from my eyes with a vengeance. I lifted my hands and covered my face as sobs overtook me. I couldn’t hear anything other than severely muffled sounds, but I jumped when an arm hooked around my back, and I was tugged forward against a hard, warm body. It took me a moment to realise what was happening.