By Lauren
This short story is a creative I did for an assignment in religion on servant leadership. I'm not that happy with it but I thought I'd put it up anyway. Tell me what you think! Any and all constructive criticism is always welcome. I hope you like it, I tried to make it engaging and interesting, despite being for school.
Lucy
I really, really should be paying attention to my science teacher. Seeing as I have a test soon and know I won’t have time to revise at home, now is my only chance to make sure I understand the topic.
But no matter how hard I try, I’m too focused on what Cassie told me.
“Maurine said her mum said poor people like us are useless and make the world bad.”
Well, Maurine, I say that bullies like you and your mum are nasty snobs who make the universe bad. Take that!
Of course, I would never say anything like that out loud. If Maurine is in Cassie’s year, she’d be about ten, and ten-year-olds only know what their parents tell them, and we’d be just as bad – if not worse – if we were mean back.
But that’s hard for Cassie to understand. She has a very set idea of justice, and direct revenge is a big part of it. As a result, she’d knocked Maurine’s front tooth out, which meant Mum might get fired from having to leave work early to go to a meeting with Cassie’s teacher.
So, I’m sorry, but chemical formula just doesn’t seem so important right now… if mum loses her job, we lose everything.
There aren’t many people out there willing to hire a single, middle aged mum of four.
I managed to get through the rest of science with all the necessary notes, then found my sister, Priya, and we raced home. Cassie was already there, crying on the sofa that doubles as her bed. Killian was trying to comfort her, but to no avail.
“Killian, why don’t we go get started on dinner?” says Priya, taking his hand, “You did a really good job cooking the capsicum last night, and I don’t think I can live up to that standard on my own.”
My brother swells with pride, he absolutely loves being useful, and Priya is one of those people who you naturally want to impress. She can convince anyone to do anything for her, and could take over the world if she weren’t so nice.
With Priya and Killian in the kitchen, I turn to Cassie.
“What happened, Cass?” I ask, softly.
She looks up at me, and it takes all my will power not to flinch at the intense pain in her expression, “I hit Maurine,” she says.
“That was yesterday,” I remind her gently, “or did you hit her again?”
Cassie takes a shaky breath, “No, but Mum’s getting in trouble for it. Mrs McNero said that it was her fault… that she’s a bad mum and that’s why I hit Maurine.”
“Do you believe that?” I ask
“No.” she says bluntly, “I hit her because she said we’re useless and make everything worse, not because of Mum… Lucy, do poor people make the world a bad place?”
I contemplate that for a second, “The world would be a better place if there weren’t poor people, but that’s not because of the people themselves.”
“Then why did she say…”
I cut her off, “do you believe anything Maurine or Mrs McNero said?” I ask
“No, but…”
“Then what does it matter?”
Cassie starts crying again, “It matters because it’s not fair. Because Mum’s getting in trouble for it and it’s not her fault, and because they’re wrong and we’re right… aren’t we?”
I sigh, “You’ve got to pick your battles,” I say “sometimes when you fight something, if you stand up for yourself, things only get worse. People only hurt more, and the most important thing, the top priority when making any decision, is other people and making sure nothing you do will hurt them."
“But we never pick any battles,” Cassie says
“That’s because you can’t have a battle without someone getting hurt.”
Cassie looks confused, “I don’t understand…”
“We don’t fight, Cassie.” I say, and the absolute betrayal and hurt in her eyes almost kills me, because we both know this is bigger than this once incident, “You’ve got to pick your battles based on the ones you can win, we can’t win any battles, so we don’t fight. Only people who are born with an advantage can afford to fight, which is wrong and unfair, but it’s true. Cassie, when you fight a battle you can’t win, that only convinces people that they’re right, even when they’re not. No-one listens to the losers, do you understand? Don’t fight, not physically, it won’t get you anywhere. Instead, try to convince them to agree with you. No-one ever got very far forcing others to think certain things, because changing a mind takes time.”
Cassie nods. I reach over to give her a hug, and she crawls onto my lap, burying her face in my shoulder.
“You’re a good big sister,” she says softly.
Priya and Killian finish making dinner, but on seeing Cass and I, they leave the food on the table and join us. When Mum comes home, that’s were she finds us, curled up on the sofa together, everyone fast asleep… except me.
Mum has tears in her eyes as she walks up to us.
“I got fired, Luce,” she says.
Heather
He’s a power-hungry, slimy, chauvinistic as…donkeyhole – Bonnie doesn’t like it when I use “bad words”.
I hold the receipt in my hand as I storm down the hall way, heels clicking on the floor. He doesn’t like that he has a woman as his boss, but that doesn’t mean he can take that out on the women he employs. I should have guessed he’d be like this, and should’ve payed more attention to how he treats his team.
“Carlson!” I snap, reaching his office. Seeing me in the doorway, he immediately shrinks back. Coward. I smile, but the intent is more to bare my teeth, not make him feel remotely more comfortable, “Have you made any recent staff changes I should know about?” I ask, peering down my nose at him.
“I… I fired someone the other day for not putting in sufficient effort… but don’t worry, I hired someone more suitable.”
“Who did you fire?” I ask.
“The new employee, he… he’s really good. In his thirties, single, very dedicated to his job. Much better than who he’s replacing.”
“That’s not what I asked. Who. Did. You. Fire?”
“Just some woman… terrible work ethic, didn’t know how to balance her home and work life…”
“What was her name?” I asked, pulling a small tablet out of my pocket.
“P-Pauline Fisher,”
I typed that name into the tablet, bringing up her resume, attendance, work, pay, and a brief background check. I love our new technology.
“Pauline Fisher,” I said, “You fired Pauline Fisher because she wasn’t putting in sufficient effort and couldn’t balance her home and work life?”
“Yes.”
“That’s funny, because according to this you fired a single mother of four who hasn’t missed a day of work in four years - in fact works overtime, has two degrees and fifteen years of experience and isn’t payed that much more than the cleaners.”
Carlson pales slightly, “Uhm…”
“Do you want to know what I received today? I received a letter written on the back of a receipt from a ten-year-old girl explaining how it was her fault her mummy lost her job, and to please give it back because otherwise they wouldn’t have food.”
“Uhm…”
“Missing work for a few hours as a one-off for a family matter is not grounds for sacking someone,” I said, using the mum-voice that lets Bonnie and Jasper know they’re in trouble. Turns out it works on grown men, too.
“Sexism, any sort of discrimination, bullying and being unreasonable and inconsistent in who you employ however, that would be grounds for sacking someone. So, if I were you, I’d think long and hard about what you do next, this poor woman is without a job because of you. What are you going to do about it?”
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