Forget this whole 'New Perspective' thing if it means waking up at seven thirty to get to an interview at eight.

I've never been a morning person. Well, who is? I've never met someone who enjoys waking up, especially when you hardly get any sleep because you wake up every few hours screaming in your sleep. I rolled over to a mop of hair in my face. I almost screamed until I realized it was just Patrick.

The familiar feeling of having a bottle smashed above my head made me shoot up in my bed, gasping for air.

"Again?" I heard a voice next to me. I look over and Patrick was sitting next to me, hand on my shoulder. This had become a routine now. Around three in the morning, now it was 3:04, I would wake up from a nightmare, and Patrick would calm me down until I was able to fall back asleep.

I nodded in response and leaned into his body.

"You know, you could always see a therapist if these continue, if you're ready. You'll have to go to the police first." I shook my head, I was afraid if I spoke it would come out as a cry or a scream.

He sighed, and rubbed small circles on my back, something that he knew would calm down. It worked, and I was just about to fall asleep when he stood up to leave. As he reached the door, I called for him.

"Patrick?" My voice cracked.

He turned around and looked at me. "Yes?"

I played with my thumbs and bit my lip. "Can you stay? Just for tonight."

He gave a small smile. "Always."

I smiled at the memory of what happened last night. Patrick was unlike anyone I've ever met, he was the best friend I could ever ask for. But I couldn't just ignore the way I started to smile when I said his name, or when I would think of a memory we shared. I pushed the thought out of my head as I stood up to get dressed. I wanted to wear skinny ripped jeans and a band tee, but I figured I might as well dress nicely as I'm going for a job interview, even if it was just for a music store.

I put on a pair of black skinny jeans, and a well-fitting white shirt. I threw a black blazer on top, making me look at least somewhat professional. This was probably the nicest outfit I owned, even if it was just a tshirt, jeans, and jacket. I was never the person to get dressed up, I liked things simple and sweet. I did have one pair of black flats, so instead of my usual beat up sneakers, I wore those.

I looked over to see Patrick roll over in his sleep, but didn't wake up. It was only 7:41, so Ryan and Rose would be asleep, and Pete never gets out of bed until noon. I went to the kitchen and left a note

Dear Patrick or Pete or Ryan or Rose or whoever reads this:

I left for the interview, wish me luck! I'm not sure what time I'll be back, but I'll be sure to bring back McDonald's

Skye :P

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"Hello Miss Black, you are the first interviewee. I'm James Sparkson, I'm the store manager and I'll be interviewing you today." The man who I met yesterday greeted me as I walked in. He must have recognized me because I was the most recent person to apply, as I've been told.

I shook his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr.Sparkson."

"Please, the pleasure is mine. Now, if you follow me to my office, we'll begin." He said as I did so. I followed him through the employee lounge to his office. It looked how you would imagine any other office to look, white walls, a wooden desk and cushioned chairs, diplomas on the wall behind him and bookshelves lining the side walls.

"So, let's begin. Why did you choose to work here?" He asked, pulling out a pen and a questionnaire.

"Well, I just moved to Chicago, and currently I'm staying with my friend, but I was hoping to buy my own apartment. I was here the other day, and my friend said you were hiring. I love music, and I don't need a big office job at the moment. Just something simple."

He moved on to ask a variety of different questions, ranging from my taste in music, to my previous jobs, and even random things such as my favorite color or place to visit. Thankfully he didn't ask about where I came from, or about my family.

After about an hour or so of questions, he said, "I'm done with questions about you now, Miss Black. Now, this is the point in the interview where you will have the chance to ask any questions you have about me, this job, or anything else you would like to know."

I thought about this for a second. I didn't have any questions, as this was really the only job I was looking for. But I figured I might as well take the chance to ask some, why not?

"Um, if I work here, what will my hours be like?" I asked probably the lamest question you could.

"Well, if we decide that we want you to work with us, you can decide if you want the morning shift, afternoon shift, or night shift. It's only a part time job; you can work around 25 hours. Because it's also part time, you'll get paid, but won't get benefits like health care."

I nodded my head; at least I could choose to not wake up at seven thirty again. "What makes you think that I'm more qualified than other people applying for the job, and what skills do I need for this?" I was surprised about how professional that sounded.

"Well, you're fairly young, and seem to be in good shape to stock. You have experience working with customers, as you were a cashier and a barista. To some people those aren't great for a resume, but these jobs actually show us that you know how to work with customers, sometimes they can be, well, stubborn. You're not over qualified for this job, and you're not under qualified, either. You just need basic skills for this job, ones that you already have." I nodded my head.

"That's really all the questions I have." I stated. He stood up and shook my hand once again.

"Well, it was a pleasure to interview you, Miss Black. If we want to hire you, we should call you this afternoon, between four and six. We will also ask you what shift you would like to begin with. We can always change it later on, but we ask that you come in tomorrow an hour before your shift so we can show you exactly what you need to do, and we can work out what days you will work, too. Thank you for coming in."

"Thank you for this opportunity. I hope to see you again." I said, and began my walk back home.

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"Did you get McDonalds?" I hardly opened the door when Patrick came running up to me.

"No, these are the severed heads of my enemies." I sarcastically remarked, holding up the bags of food. "Yes, I went to McDonalds, I almost forgot and had to turn around and get some. And he interview went very nicely, thanks for asking."

"Oh, sorry, I forgot." I rolled my eyes at him. "Did you get the job?"

"I think so. They're going to call me between four and six, and it's noon now." I placed the bags on the table. "Pete, Ryan, Rose! I have lunch!" I called down the hallway, as I heard two pairs of footsteps run to their doors.

"Where's Pete?" I asked Patrick.

"He's probably still sleeping. I only woke up ten minutes ago." I gave him a glare. "What? We enjoy sleep."

"So you're saying that Ryan and Rose were up for a good few hours without anyone watching them?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Oh, shit, uh, they seem to be fine." He said as they raced into the kitchen, jumping up and down. "See, they're-"

"Patrick!" He seemed confused. "They're on a sugar high, you must have left candy somewhere and they found it!"

"Sorry?" He was scared, like I was going to start screaming. I let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding. I didn't want anyone to be scared of me, and I hated to be angry at Patrick.

"It's fine, just try not to do it again. It's my fault for not waking you up and telling you that you had to look after them, sorry." I handed everyone their food as we sat down.

"I'm going to go get Pete." Patrick walked down the hallway with Pete's food in his hand. I smiled at the thought of Patrick bribing Pete to get up with food.

"Skye?" Rose asked. I looked at her. "I'm scared of Patrick and Pete." She whispered. I picked her up and put her in my lap.

"Why? What's wrong baby girl?" I whispered back.

"They won't hurt us like mommy, will they? I like them, I don't want them to be meanies." I hugged her.

"No, they won't hurt us. I promise."

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise."

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"Patrick! Patrick! Patrick!" I yelled, running down the hall to Patrick's room, where he flung the door open.

"Skye, what's wrong?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Nothing's wrong, I got the job!" I squealed.

He pulled me into a quick hug. "That's great! When do you start?"

"Tomorrow. I'm working the afternoon shifts, so I'm not sure which days I'm working, but I'll figure that out tomorrow." I jumped up and down. "I have a real job!"

"Stop there, and let me correct it. I wanna live a life from a new perspective."