What We do. (standard:other, 580 words)
Author: White Rabbit	Added: Mar 07 2001	Views/Reads: 3248/4	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is something i wrote at 2am procrastinating studying a test. PLEASE READ AND VOTE!!! I NEED INPUT!!

The walls were a whitewashed pasty color, with the artificial light
bouncing back and forth, illuminating the scene.  The shadows cast by 
walking people moved quickly and rigidly, without any grace at all.  A 
naïve young girl walked down the corridor, innocent and expecting the 
best in life.  She was both nervous and excited, off to her first job 
interview.  She stopped outside the door, collecting her wits.  Taking 
a deep breath and pasting her most confident smile on her face, she 
opened the door and strode in.  Still smiling, she told the 
receptionist her name, then sat on the imported English blue couch, 
heart pounding.  It seemed like ages when the receptionist finally 
called her name.  She glanced at her watch while walking towards the 
door, and noted that it had been five minutes.  Nevertheless, it had 
been a long five minutes, full of anxiety and anticipation.  She went 
in and sat in the chair across from the interrogator, and waited.  
After a while, he looked up from his writing, and proceeded to ask her 
name, experience, and so forth.  As the interview continued, she got 
more and more of an idea that she had no where close to the experience 
that was required for this position, and got up and left, spirits 
crushed.  This happened to her time and time again, making her a more 
cynical and wary character.  It took the sparkle out of her eyes, the 
smile off her face.  This only made her try harder to accomplish the 
things society told her to.  She saw those around her excel and leave 
her behind, and she became bitter and withdrawn.  She got a minimum 
wage job at McDonalds, flipping someone’s greasy burger for whom she 
didn’t care at all.  Why??  Why couldn’t she be happy doing this?  
Because she was a failure.  A failure to herself, to her parents, to 
the world.  Did she really care about what job she had?  She wanted to 
pursue the one thing that made her happy, but her parents were so 
disappointed that she just couldn’t do it.  Making the so-called 
conscientious decision to major in business, she failed miserably 
because she just didn’t care.  She didn’t care where the fucking money 
came from or went, and she didn’t care what made it or didn’t.  She 
dropped the school that her parents had paid so much money for and 
wandered from friend to friend, until she had none left.  She was a 
failure in everyone’s eyes.  At the age of 47, she decided to put 
herself back in school, and get a degree in education, so that she 
could be the teacher that her parent had so strongly resented.  “It’s 
not a good job, it doesn’t pay well, it’s not for educated people.”  
All bullshit, it was all bullshit.  She had learned in her painful, 
drawn-out life that society was bullshit.  It didn’t make her happy.  
She got herself through school, and finally became a kindergarten 
teacher.  She was more content, but she thought back on those 30 wasted 
years, and became more and more miserable, until she withered away and 
became the shell of the woman she was 30 years ago.  She finally died, 
alone, in her steamy bathtub.  Her face was down, with mass of tangled 
hair floating, in the slightly pink water from the blood of her 
spurting wrists.  No one had recognized what she had done, and how she 
had sacrificed her life to satisfy society.


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