All Mine

“Pain is always emotional. Fear and depression keep constant company with chronic hurting.” - Arabic Proverb If someone told me that at the age of twenty-four, I would have had a s**t life it would be an understatement of the year. I feel the lucky ones are those that didn’t survive the violence, they don’t get to stay in this ugly world that keeps on bringing you down and reliving every single hell that was brought onto them. Or is the cynic in me talking? Or is it the amount of hell that has been put onto me for the past twenty-four years? Is it normal to want a normal childhood, a normal family, a normal life with family and friends that love you? Has someone that loves all of you no matter what? But for people like me, that will never happen, as I cannot let my guard down. I do that, and my past will come back to haunt me, or at worst hurt the ones I love. My name is Dana O’Sullivan, I’m a busty, hazel and green-eyed, short, fiery-redheaded Irish-blooded woman who has been living in the states for the past three years, who has fled from domestic violence again. What keeps going around in my head is that I hope I am far enough away from Seth. Also, he couldn't find me. The furthest north I could go in the states was Maine. My homeland isn’t safe for me either, so I cannot go back, thanks to the lovely s**t storm my father and brother have caused. Ireland was finally seeing some form of peace before their evil stunt. I come from a lovely family… I found a quiet, peaceful small town where the police don’t ask too many questions as to why an Irish female all alone wants to live here, besides the fact it reminds me of home, the weather, the area not the people, which is a good thing. I chose to fall into my old trade as I needed the money and the town's local pub, Lion’s DeN, had an opening and the owner was willing to pay me cash only to keep the paper trail down. The owner's name, who has become a close friend of mine. When I say close, he still knows next to nothing about me, which is what I like. Ethan James is in his early thirties, a Native American, he works out, but he's down to earth. I am a commie chef and have been working at the Lion’s Den for over six months now. “Earth to Dana!” Ethan yells at me from across the pass. I looked over at him in shock. Oh man, had I spaced out again? I had better answer before I get yelled at again. “Is my seafood basket's ready for table sixteen? The rest of the order is getting cold!” said Ethan, looking a little upset but also worried. “Yes, Chef, so sorry Chef,” I yelled right back at him, hurrying up plating the food that he was waiting on. Once I gave him the plate, I quickly apologized to him. “Sorry Chef, it won’t happen again.” I quickly said before reading what is next to be cooked and plated up. “That is your last warning kid! No more spacing out, we have a busy night ahead of us.” He says quickly before turning his orders over on the grill. “I know Chef we are booked out, sorry again Chef,” I said, Ethan,. He came closer to the deep fryer area, leaning down to whisper to me. “Stop apologizing, Dana.” I saw in the corner of my eye our third-year apprentice chef SJ Haines making his way over to the pass with a plate of vegetables. “Here’s the side of veg for table ten Chef, has Dana gone back into la-la land again?” he says this laughing, Ethan was quick to reply “Thanks, yeah she was.” As he starts reading out what orders he wants to come out, while the rest of the kitchen crew responds to his commands. SJ walks closer to me, leaning in, making a show of smelling me, which causes me to walk back from him holding my tongs up in between us ready to hit him with them if I have to. “Come on short stuff, we need you on the hot and cold larder section. No one can run it like you.” SJ said, blowing air kisses in my face before racing off to his section. I hate it when he does that to me. He knows it makes me feel uncomfortable, but do you think it would stop him? Nope... SJ is a young nineteen-year-old who has been working at the DeN for a year now. He looks to me like an Eminem wannabe but isn’t pulling it off at all, in my opinion. I knew I was about to snap at him, and this time I didn’t hold back. “Piss off SJ I am too busy to deal with you tonight!” I yelled back at him. While I was yelling, the fourth-year apprentice Brad Williams yelled at him too. “Leave her be! How many times do you need to be turned down, mate? Oh, and get back to your section SJ your orders aren’t going to do themselves!” Brad Williams yells. As you guessed, he is an Australian who has called this pub his home for the last four and a half years, unsure why he hasn’t qualified yet, but he's not far off. Nor do I understand why he's still single, friendly as anything, tanned, well-built, and could pull off being one of the Hemsworth brothers. He is attractive, but as far as I go, he's friendly, but something deep down inside of me is telling me to keep away from him in that way. The rest of the night went by smoothly, orders pumped out fast, banter running wild like a normal kitchen. We all did our cleaning procedure, finishing that off and heading towards the office to clock off for the night, when I noticed the front of house manager running up to the passage looking upset. “Please do not kill me! I am so sorry for the last order for the night, I swear!” Monica yelled so that everyone could hear us. They all stopped and turned around looking at her with a combination of feelings running over their faces. “What the f**k? f*****g hell Monica?! Everything is bloody turned off?!” I yelled back at her, not caring if the customers heard me. “I’m sorry sweets, but it’s a big table, and they took their time in ordering about. I did ask the wait staff to let you all know.” Monica sounded genuinely upset about us. Monica James is Ethan’s baby sister, also my roommate and newly my best friend, because I don't have many friends here. I let out a groan and was upset that the kitchen was all clean, and we just messed it all up again. “How many people, Monica?” I whispered. She looked up at me mouthing the word sorry, “Ten babe...” She said loud enough that everyone could hear as she passed me the docket, with a mixture of anger and pissed-off SJ. Ethan and Brad were looking over my shoulder reading the docket. “What the... Who orders a well-done steak?!” Said SJ, who looked shocked. “What the hell Mon? Who the hell ordered so late? Also, why didn’t anyone tell us?!” Ethan said quite loudly. “Who’s the bloody i***t who has no taste buds?” Brad said over my shoulder. Monica leaned in so that only we could hear. “Sorry Ethan, it was the McCarthy family and their friends.” She said Ethan undeniably did not like that answer. He rubbed his face, then swore and headed off to wash his hands, turning back at us. “I’m sorry guys, but we need to do this order. Turn everything back on and get this out pronto!” He yelled at us. Throughout the kitchen, you can hear groaning and complaining, but they all still said ‘Yes Chef’ to him. While I cooked the food for the section that I work in, I thought about that name. I have heard so much about just one name, McCarthy, all over town. They are also business owners. They own quite a few companies from what I have noticed, which is telling me they are a large and important family within this small town. If I believed the rumors I had heard about them, I would stay clear of them all. The ones that I keep getting informed on are a family of five males, a single dad with four adult sons, the townspeople believe they look like God’s and are the town's womanizers. The checkout lady informed me to stay clear of them as they like to enjoy a different woman each night, never the same one twice more than the oldest brother. This whole time in this town I have yet to see them. I tend to avoid men that are like this and treat them like a plague. One thing I find odd about this is how they all talk about people from their own town. I know it was like that back in my hometown, but it was different. It seemed different. More like they knew what I was doing as soon as they knew, they told my family, so by the time I was home I was in trouble, where here they like to spread gosspie.