Sapphire sat in a plush red chair, trying to remain calm underneath the glare of a lady her age, wearing an unusually bright shade of orange lipstick. It was not like she was scary, but there was something about her that made her uncomfortable. Then again, the last time Sapphire had applied for a job was years ago.

She shifted about uncomfortably, crossing and uncrossing her legs. "My dream, if I had to choose one, would be to make my own graphic novels, full-length. As fun as comics in the paper are, they're not what I would like to be doing. My talent is equipped enough to last the extent of a full-length novel."

"Judging from your samples, I have no doubt," the lady answered with an aesthetically calming grin. Sapphire felt a little more at ease, but she was still uncomfortable with the whole position that Scarlett put her in.

Sapphire nodded shyly, flattening out the pleats on her skirt in the proper manner. Order was a prominent need in her life, otherwise things always seem to just fall apart. All in all, Sapphire detested change.

The lady nodded her head, her face growing even more solemn. "How quickly can you produce something?"

Sapphire began to panic. That was a really good question that she had absolutely no answer to. It had been so long since she really had worked on her art that she was more or less out of practice. She decided to just dance around the question, since that seemed to work for politicians, so why not her? "How quickly would you need it?" she asked with a devilish grin.

"I see, so you work fast?" the lady questioned.

A lump began to develop in her throat as she considered how to answer that. Sapphire took a deep breath, hoping that the interview was almost over with, so that she could just go home. "Relatively." Her voice squeaked as she tried not to lie, but still sound like she is qualified for the job.

The lady gave Sapphire a quizzical look. "What do you mean by that?"

Sapphire mentally began to fight herself on the inside. This interview was definitely the death of her. She eyed the room, feeling like it was closing in on her. "Well, simply that I can work quickly, but still diligently. Most people choose either quality or quantity, but I say, why not both?"

The lady seemed impressed by the response as she scribbled something on a notepad with a smile and nod accompanying the pen's movement. "Geneau, so what sort of subject matters and themes are you interested in depicting into your artwork?"

Sapphire's ears perked up. "Geneau? You speak German?"

The lady's cheeks flushed, her hand quickly flying to fix the nonexistent loose hairs coming undone in her bun. "German? No, who said anything about German? I only know English and French. Are you saying, however, that you know German?"

"German was a prominent household language for me, as I was growing up," Sapphire shared, quietly. "I apologize, I thought that you said 'geneau', which means 'exactly'."

The lady let out a nervous laugh. "No, Ms. Ferox, I did not. I said 'good to know,' perhaps you misheard me."

"Of course, I am sorry," Sapphire said, her voice clear with her conviction and her cheeks the color of an embarrassed flamingo.

"No need for an apology, Ms. Ferox. Speaking of which, how old are you?"

Sapphire sat there stunned by the question. Not that she had anything to hide about her age, but she definitely was not considering that as a question that would appear. "I am twenty-five years old."

The lady knitted her eyebrows together. "Twenty-five? So, if you do not mind me asking, why have you decided to use 'Ms.' rather than 'Miss'? I assumed that Ferox is your maiden name."

"I am a widow. My husband died overseas in the army," she said almost inaudibly. Sapphire felt the emotions and terror rise within her, beginning to stir some violent storm in the depths of her brain.

"I'm sorry," the lady responded, shifting about uncomfortably.

"Its fine," Sapphire lied. Beads of sweat felt like they were racing each other down the side of her forehead. Her hands were clammy, seemingly prepared to strangle herself if she was forced through even one more minute of this torture.

As the silence built a wall between them, Sapphire could not take it anymore. She needed to break it somehow and feel assured that she was still, in fact, living. "Next question?" she asked, trying to rebuild the conversation.

The lady cleared her throat. "Well, going back to the original question – themes and subject matter?"

Sapphire clenched her jaw. This was far more stressful than she had thought when Scarlett convinced her to crawl out of bed.

Sapphire took a few deep breaths, trying to remain in a composed stature. She eyed a decorated frame that stood delicately on a shelf to the right of her, propped up by some antique, leather-bound books. If only she had the charm of the frame.

"My themes are..." she began, stuttering along the way. "Well, I mean to say that my subject matter is..." Why was this so difficult for her? She wanted to be freed of the atrocity of life that was currently propelled on her.

CRASH!

Sapphire sat stunned at the sound of the wreck, tilting her head ever so slightly to the left to take a peek at the crash. The decorated frame had somehow flown across the room, smashing into a million pieces against the opposing wall.

"My word!" the lady stood up in shock, dynamically upset by the loss of her frame. Sapphire sat helplessly and nervously, feeling her anxiety build up. Her thoughts immediately relayed to the happenings from yesterday and her mind prayed that there was no connection. This had to be no more than a fluke.

It was then that she spotted the books on the shelf begin to levitate in the air, forcefully pushing themselves into the opposing wall, landing at the shards of glass laced in the rug. Sapphire panicked, but made no sign to move.

This could not possibly be happening.

"Miss Ferox, I apologize for this, and will meet you outside the office." The lady stood frozen, petrified by what she had witnessed. Even so, Sapphire could not tell who was more scared about the happenings.

She took this golden opportunity to rush away from the havoc in the office to pursue some source of calamity. As she stepped out into the office, she pulled out her phone and sent a text to Scarlett: We have a major problem!

***************

Author's Note:

Update - I am the president of next year's writer club at school!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Lots of love,

Ali xoxo