Ella
The mornings had always been my time of clarity, my beacon of hope. But not today.
Two weeks had slipped by since my dismissal. Two weeks of job searching, late nights spent revising my resume, late mornings sleeping in and being awoken by the sound of my neighbors arguing or playing loud music.
I felt like a failure. A failure with convictions, maybe, but a failure.
Today, I woke up tangled in a mess of bed sheets, my mind muddled with thoughts I couldn't shake off. Groaning, I groggily crawled out of bed and shuffled over to the bathroom, where I flicked on the light and jumped out of fear of my own reflection.
My hair was a mess. I had dark circles under my eyes. I was starting to look a little gaunt, too, from not being able to afford halfway decent meals sinc
