"Where have you been? We were so worried." My mother asked with an obvious concern.
"Just went to run some errands. Here." I handed her the money I earned after a whole day of labor. "I'm sorry I can only give you this. It's not much but I promise to earn more tomorrow."
Then, she hugged me. It was so sudden, I froze. "It's us who should be sorry. You shouldn't be doing all these things. We're so sorry." She said. It was my mother's favorite line. She had been apologizing to us ever since I was little.
"There's no need to apologize. It's what I should do. Family should stick together." I assured her with a smile.
There was no helping it. We were at the bottom of the food chain. I was born in the slums. Everyone called people at the bottom floors slaves but, unlike those who were really in slavery, we weren't chained nor tortured. It was just that we were poor, poorer than poor. Despite the poverty, we had a roof over our heads and food in the table though they weren't really enough to satisfy our hungry bellies. My mother worked in a shoe factory with below minimum wage while my father worked as a construction worker. You'd think there won't be any more to construct in the tower since it was already filled with tall buildings and enormous facilities, but there was always a building or two under construction somewhere in the upper floors. Those rich bastards kept coming up with ridiculous imaginations. I worried that sooner or later the tower would collapse with the heavy weight. Of course, I knew that those magicians must have already done something so the worst probably won't ever happen.
Those magicians, I hated them. I never understood what made them so special and important. Anybody could try practicing alchemy or sorcery, but only those with innate potential succeeded. Personally, I never thought we needed them. With the advancement of technology, robots and machines could easily surpass those people, but everyone still put them on the pedestal. They were looked upon with high regard. They said technology only manufactured things on a basic level, but with sorcery and alchemy, they could go beyond the laws of realism. I still preferred the classic way of things though. I believed that the more people go beyond reality and the laws of nature, the more complicated things would be and there'd be no going back. More power would lead to more greed. More greed would lead to more ambition. More ambition would lead to more conflict. More conflict meant casualties. Those at the bottom would suffer the most. The world is unfair.
"Hey! What are you thinking about?" It was Eliza, my best friend.
"Nothing. What are you doing here? It's almost midnight. You should go home and rest." I said.
"I just got back from the market. I did some delivery work." She said, smiling.
"Another job? What happened with your assistant job with the seamstress?"
"I got fired weeks ago. I made wrong measurements and the gown ended up looking like a clown's costume." She laughed.
"And you still have the luxury to laugh? You get fired almost every week."
My best friend. I never understood where her positivity came from. Despite the hardships, she never forgot to smile and spread warmth. I wished to be like that but I could never do it. In this crazy world, it was hard to be positive when even dreaming seemed so expensive. Every time we were together, she talked nonstop about the wonderful things she had seen at the upper floors. She did a lot of delivery work in the past and had been to the upper floors numerous times. She said it was like a whole new world. She said she dreamt of living 'upstairs' someday. She said she was going to marry a handsome rich man and live in luxury for the rest of her life. I wanted to correct her every time. I wanted to tell her to wake up from her dreams and face reality. But, I couldn't. I didn't want the sparkle in her eyes to disappear. Though I always believed that dreaming of a better life was futile, I enjoyed listening to her stories. In a way, it helped relieve the anxiety even just for a moment. After listening to her bright future plans, I started dreaming of my own.
I started dreaming of a better life. I started dreaming of lying in a soft comfy bed in a room with bright beautiful curtains. I started dreaming of a long dining table filled with delicious food like there's no tomorrow. I started dreaming of my family's happy smiles living a wonderful life in vivid colors. I told myself that thinking about it would only lead to disappointments, but I couldn't help it. I wanted a momentary escape from the prison I was in. I only had to close my eyes and think of all the wonderful things I could never have. Sometimes, dreaming made me laugh. I dreamt of certain scenarios in my head of how I wanted my life to be. I pictured them in my head all the time like I was directing a movie. I imagined how I would wake up one day to find myself showered with blessings and good news. I already planned how I'd react, even. But sometimes, dreaming made me cry too. I realized dreaming so much wasn't a good idea. You picture a perfect life in your head, only to wake up to one opposite of it and get filled with self-pity. It was pathetic. I was a fool, but I couldn't stop myself from dreaming.
The next morning, I woke up early for work. I worked as a dishwasher at the juice factory in the nineteenth floor, while the shoe factory where my mother worked was at the twelfth floor. I woke up at three every day to get ready for work, cook breakfast, and help my mother with chores.
"Be careful on your way up. Don't get into random fights with strangers, do you hear me?" My mother reminded.
"You make me sound like a nine-year old boy who goes around looking for trouble." I said.
"I'm just worried, knowing your personality. I know you don't like it when people act so arrogantly. But we must know our place." She said. "Don't talk back to your boss when you're being reprimanded, even when you know you're in the right, understood?"
I didn't answer. Why do I have to put up with those things? Why do we have to be the ones to adjust and endure all the time?
"I have to go. You be careful on your way to work too." My mother's job was at noon.
I left the house and walked in quick strides. In the nineteenth floor, I decided to take a shortcut through the market. It was already filled with busy people blocking most part of the road. I hurried before the market got any busier. Then, out of the blue, a man appeared from the left and bumped into me. The force was so strong that I got knocked to the ground. The man also lost his balance and fell on his butt. I was stunned for a second before regaining my composure. I glared at the man. He was a big man with a bald head. He had a few tattoos on his arm and plenty of rings on his fingers. He held a tobacco on one hand and a big black pouch on the other. He looked like some gang leader or a mafia boss. I got up and went to pick up my bag that was thrown about a meter away. I picked it up and shook the dust off.
"Watch where you're going! Do you know who I am?" The man growled at me.
Hold it in. Don't let him get to you. I took a deep breath before answering. "I'm sorry. I was in a hurry."
"Sorry? Look at me. I'm covered in dirt!" He yelled.
People were starting to watch the commotion.
Covered in dirt? Only your butt is on the ground. I took another deep breath. "Here. Let me help you." I approached him and tried to help him up. He pushed me away and got on his feet.
"How dare you touch me? Do you want to die?"
I bowed my head in apology. "I'm really sorry. Please forgive me."
"Hah. Pathetic bitch." He muttered.
I turned to walk away but he grabbed me by the wrist.
"Where do you think you're going? You think you can just settle this with an apology?"
That's it. I have had enough. I shook his hand off and grabbed his collar. "What more do you want? For your information, you're the own who bumped into me. If only you actually used your eyes then we wouldn't be in this mess!" I shouted at him then pushed him back.
"How dare you! Do you have any idea who you're messing with?"
"I don't care who you are! You think you can just walk around harassing people just because you have money?" I snapped. "You're the pathetic one."
"What did you say?"
Then, he threw a punch at me. I saw it coming so I was able to dodge it. I kicked the back of his knee and he fell on his back. The man grunted in pain.
"You should really learn to be more human instead of acting like a male lion in a pack."
Applause erupted from the crowd. I walked away from the spectacle and ran to the factory. I was late. The guard shook his head impatiently as I ran past the gate. I hurried to the lockers to change.
"You're late. In my office. Now." The manager appeared out of nowhere. She turned her back on me after uttering those words and started walking to her office.
I sighed in disbelief. "This can't be happening."
I followed the manager quietly to her office. She walked around her desk and sat on her chair. She gave me that dark look she always had which made my stomach turn. I knew what was going to happen. The manager was a strict person. She wasn't the kind to be swayed by sad emotional reasons.
"You're late. I told you I don't like tardiness." She said with her stern face.
"I'm sorry. Something happened on the way and I got held up. It won't happen again. I promise."
"Of course it won't. Because you're fired." She said a matter-of-factly.
"What? Why? This is the first time that it happened. I was never late before, not even once."
"But you were late today, so who knows if you won't ever be late again in the future?"
"Please. I've worked so hard." I started pleading. "I need this job."
"But I don't need people who can't come on time." She said each word with emphasis. "Do you know how many people are waiting for a spot here? Not just here, but anywhere. A lot of people from the slums have been waiting for an opportunity for a job opening. You are not a loss."
"I've worked here for three years. You can't do this to me." I reasoned.
"Oh? Do you really want to make a fuss here?" She said. There was a threat in her voice. "I'm telling you to just leave in peace before things get complicated for you. Go to the HR and process everything so you'll at least get some compensation. Or you can make a scene and I'll just have the guard pick you up and kick you out."