Broken but beloved

First Day at Work!

Puja's POV:

I woke up around 6 am, feeling a mix of nervous excitement for my first day of work at the café. I headed straight to the bathroom, stripped off my pajamas, and stepped into a warm shower, letting the heat relax my tense muscles. After drying off, I stood in front of my closet, debating what to wear. Finally, I settled on a knee-length floral skirt, a simple polo t-shirt, and flat shoes. These were the nicest clothes I had, and I wanted to make a good impression.

After getting dressed, I went downstairs to the café. Grandma was sitting at the counter, greeting me with a warm and comforting smile that instantly put me at ease. My shift was from 8:00 am to 8:00 pm today. Grandma called another staff member to the counter and then took me to the work area, showing me around and familiarizing me with the machines. She also introduced me to my colleagues: Tina, a middle-aged married woman with long black hair and warm brown eyes; Akash, a tall, lean teenager with neatly trimmed black hair and piercing black eyes; and Ananya, a beautiful young woman in her early twenties with amber eyes like mine and long hair cascading down to her waist. Ananya was Grandma’s beloved granddaughter, working here during her holidays.

Everyone greeted me with genuine smiles, and I immediately felt a sense of belonging. Ananya, in particular, had an inexplicable bond with me that made me feel at ease. The work at the café was divided into shifts: one day, someone would clean, the next day they would serve, and the day after that, they would cook. This rotating system ensured everyone participated equally in all tasks and avoided any disputes over workloads.

At around 1 pm, we were given a 30-minute lunch break. I didn’t have any money and considered skipping lunch, planning to ask for my pay in the evening to buy some food. We got paid daily, which was a relief. I sat on a bench in the kitchen, plugged in my earphones, and started listening to random songs from my playlist. The music must have lulled me to sleep because I was woken up by a gentle tap on my shoulder. Ananya stood there with a plate of sandwiches and a glass of orange juice. Startled, I quickly stood up, fearing I was late for my shift.

Ananya laughed softly and reassured me that there were still ten minutes left of the break. She had noticed I wasn’t eating and brought me some food, guessing I hadn’t had breakfast either. Her kindness took me by surprise. I initially refused, not wanting to impose further, but she firmly insisted, threatening to send me back to my room if I didn’t eat. Reluctantly, I accepted the food and ate it, grateful for her thoughtfulness. After finishing, we both returned to work.

It was my turn to clean today, and as the afternoon wore on, the café got increasingly busy. We had to work quickly and efficiently to keep up with the rush. By 8 pm, we finally closed for the day. Exhausted, I received my pay from Grandma. To my surprise, she handed me Rs. 2000, much more than I expected. At my previous job, I barely earned Rs. 1000 per day. Overwhelmed with gratitude, I thanked her and headed to my room.

I took another warm shower to wash away the day's fatigue, then put on an old pair of pajamas my mother had bought me two years ago. I decided to venture outside for dinner and headed to a nearby food stall. The city was vibrant and bustling with activity at night, with local vendors selling their goods under the glow of streetlights. As I wandered through the market, my cell phone rang. Seeing it was my mother, a wave of fear washed over me. I had been ignoring her calls since the day I left, and today was no different.

Following the tantalizing aroma of food, I found a busy fast-food stall and ordered Chicken Tikka with rice and a can of Coke. The flavors were a comforting distraction from my worries. After eating, I paid and explored the city a bit before returning to my room. Lying on my bed, I found myself lost in thoughts about my mother. Why did she hate me so much? Despite her abuse over the years, I had always loved and cared for her. How could a mother be so ruthless?

Just then, my phone rang again. It was her. I ignored the call, but a text message soon followed: “Where the hell are you? Pick up the damn phone. Do you think you’re smart enough to outsmart me? Remember, I’m your mother. You can run, but you can’t hide. I will find you.”

Reading the message, I felt a mix of fear and sadness. A tear rolled down my cheek. When would my good days come? With these heavy thoughts weighing on my mind, I slowly drifted into sleep, clinging to the hope of a better tomorrow.