• Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. The pain starts to overcome me. I grasp a nearby side table for support and force myself to concentrate on staying conscious.

    When I finally reach the conference room, I find that everyone’s already there and waiting.

    “Oh, please just shoot me,” I nearly grumble, but decide against it, knowing my mother would be more than happy to oblige.

    My father clears his throat impatiently and motions for me to stand at the head of the table by my uncle. Once I’m there a tall blonde woman, who’s probably somehow related to me, picks up stack of official looking papers and begins to read in an overly pleasant voice.

    “December 21, 6 years ago, employee A43 began working for the Menai family. Since then,
    employee A43 has contributed approximately 0.00% towards the progress of the Menai family.”

    She set the papers down and sends me a nervous glance before lowering her head.

    Well, that proved it. I was a loser, a useless loser who was too dizzy to even care.

    “Well,” my uncle demands, noticing the blank look on my face, “what do you have to say for yourself?!”

    I open my mouth to speak, but before I can say a word a wave a nausea washes over me, and I wind up vomiting all over him.

    “Stupid girl!” my mother screams. Once I’ve wiped my mouth she grabs the papers from the blonde woman and hits me in the cheek with it. I spit a bloody tooth at her face and storm out the door. This was going to be the best brithday ever