June 15th, Tuesday.

It was summer. We had finished our freshman year of college.

Everything was running smoothly. Me and Kayla were out at the movies, Marcus and Noah were at a party. Everything was cool.

We hadn't went back to San Francisco for the summer yet. We were going to go on the Fourth of July, then stay up until school started again.

It seems like the world can never give me a break.

I was going to work and it was a great day.

And by "great day" I mean it was a great day to kick somebody's ass.

Once I was at work, I was working silently, powering through my horrid migraine.

I hand a lady with black hair and red lipstick her coffee.

"Enjoy." I say giving a big smile that we were required to have.

She says nothing. She doesn't smile back either.

I assume she's just depressed or bitchy and move on.

We get plenty no-words around here. That's what we call the customers who don't talk; "we" being my coworkers and I. I finally decided being lonely is boring and made friends at my job.

The lady with the black hair and red lipstick comes back up to me.

"My coffee wasn't right."

"Oh I'm so sorry about that. We could get you the right one if you bring your coffee back up."

"I drank it." She says, tucking hair behind her ear.

Is this bitch kidding?

"It must've not been that bad then."

"Excuse me?" She says rudely.

"Nothing. Well ma'am I can't give you anew coffee if you drank the one you had."

She slams her empty cup on the table.

"Last time I checked the customers always right!"

"Check again." I say, wiping the counter vigorously.

"Who do you think you're talking to?"

"You."

Damn this spot on the counter just won't come off.

"Listen you ugly bitch! I want my damn coffee and you're damn wrong if you think I'm leaving without it."

"You've already had your coffee. And it's in your stomach, bitch. Now I recommend you get the hell out before I beat your ass." I say, with the same smile we're required to give.

She gives me a glare and walks away.

"Woah, Brianna don't scare away the customers. Ria's makeup already does that enough." My manager says.

"Ha-ha" Ria says sarcastically while sticking up the middle finger.

"Hm I can't tell if you're angry or not through that Smokey eye.."

I laugh. Ria also laughs. It was normal for us to joke like this.

"Anyways. Back to what I was saying. Even if that lady was Satan with plastic surgery, you have to learn to avoid knocking off her silicone nose."

I laugh again.

He pats me on my shoulder before heading back into the back.

After what felt like decades, my lunch break rolls around.

I go outside. It was kind of late but still light outside due to the weird pattern of summer.

As I'm walking down the street to go get a burger, I am grabbed from behind.

An arm wraps around my throat. I manage to pry the arms off of me and turn around.

As I do, I am punched in the face by a balled fist and for a second I think I taste the acrylics.

But it wasn't her nails I was tasting.

It was blood.

The familiar copper taste that I've tasted one too many times when my head is slammed against lockers, or I'm socked in the lip, or when I have my nose broken by my abusive father.

Before I can comprehend what's happening, I am punched in the face again. Before I know it, I am tackled to the ground being repeatedly hit in the face.

Before my vision blurs, I see that it's the same girl who was mad about the coffee.

She gets up to run.

"Bitch." I mutter.

"Oh shut up." She says before running. I hear the click of her heels before she escapes.

My vision blurs and I feel the urge to see more blood. Even though I can barely see the blood on my face now. It's on my eyes and now on my hands from my attempt to wipe it off. I reach into my bag to try and grab my emergency blood pills.

After I grab them, I put some in my hand and throw them in my mouth. I swallow, choking on a few.

I feel the urge go away, and the last thing I remembers is coughing, my eyes closing, and me sighing before seeing nothing but the back of my eyelids.