Sorry guys, this occurred to me on the way in to work this morning and I had to jot it down. It's not personal, it's not about anyone I know, it's just me flexing my creative muscles.

She paused before opening the door, hoping one last time that the words would come back to her. She’d had difficulty sleeping the night before, anticipation and nerves wound into a tight little bundle of consternation. Staring at the ceiling she went over the words time and time again but always stumbled when she put them to voice. She was unable to find that deep replenishing sleep that she knew she’d need for the big day, instead finding herself looking at the clock throughout the night. One o’clock. Two forty-five. Four fifteen. She flirted with sleep and kept finding rejection. With a zombie-like gaze she counted down the minutes and watched the alarm clock go off, dully switching it off and clamoring out of bed.

She only dimly appreciated the extra time she’d had that morning to prepare. The bags under her eyes and the drained look on her face would take extra time to mask. The face-to-face time before the mirror was spent again going over the words. Briefly she thought that she was making too much of an issue of it, then immediately dismissed that notion. This was an auspicious and monumental day and her ability to rise to the occasion would set the tone for the rest of her tenure. She repeated the words into the mirror. Almost perfect this time.

One last pause and she pushed open the door. Her peers only briefly glanced at her, but she knew what they were thinking, knew that each one of them hoped she’d fail. It was a Machiavellian conspiracy, and she’d wondered if they knew that she was aware that they were only acting uninterested, but it was all too obvious. A few were nearly able to show no reaction at all to her entry, carrying on with their tasks as if it were any other day. She noted their names; these would be the ones to watch for the most.

She repeated the words.

She stepped in place behind a contemporary and tapped his shoulder. He nodded and stepped aside. He was saying something, but she was lost, unable to even focus on the sounds he made. A line grew before her and suddenly everything was gone. The words, repeated so many countless times, swam away from her and now she was drowning. Her eyes lost focus and now she was someplace else entirely. She was hiding behind the low rock wall outside her brother’s clubhouse.

It was three years earlier, late spring. The flowers that had bloomed so early this year were already spreading with abandon. It was mid-afternoon and she was walking home with her brothers. As the only sister among four siblings she had grown up with a few hobbies that would have surprised some. Ponies and princesses soon gave way to war horses and swords, guns and car races soon to follow. She wasn’t tough or a brawler by any measure – her entourage of brothers wouldn’t allow any harm to come to her – but she believed she could hold her own in a fight. She kept her appearances and demeanor as feminine and delicate as possible, secretly hoping that one day she’d be forced into a fight and then would shock the world by showing that this kitten has claws!

She was lost in her thoughts when the world pulled her back. A fight had started and she didn’t even notice. Two of her brothers were in the dirt trying to pin down two others she didn’t recognize. Before she could react her elder brother had picked her up and placed her behind the wall, muttering something about her safety before he jumped in to break up the fight. A shout resounded from her left, cohorts of the two strangers. They rushed forward and she dropped behind the wall and pressed herself into the wet earth against the embankment. The sounds of the fight were horrifying; dull thuds of fists and flesh, an occasional scream or growl, and then just sobs. Her own tears were unabashedly washing down her face while her mouth held a mute caricature of a scream. She couldn’t call out, couldn’t even whine. She was no use to her brothers, and no use to herself.

And now here she was again, a moment of truth. A timid glance to her right revealed her superior, waiting for her to begin. She looked forward, found a sea of impatient eyes staring back at her, each one judging her, finding her unworthy, finding her very soul unacceptable.

But she could not allow it to happen again. She stood taller, straighter, and faced forward. She called to mind the faces of all those around her who were conspiring against her, the faces of the kids who’d screamed and attacked her brothers, the face of her superior and finally the faces of her brothers. Like a punch in the chest her heart lurched into action and the words sprang back to her. She spoke the mantra, not perfectly, but more than acceptable.

“Welcome to McDonald’s. How may I take your order please?”

It was the dawn of a new day.