Generation 1 Chapter 2: Amani Vista

“Albany, he’s so sweet! We’ll all get along great, I’m sure of it!” I coaxed. 

“I don’t know Amani, I mean; you met him at the laundromat. It’s not exactly the most appealing place to meet people. Didn’t someone like get killed there? Or was that just an episode of C.S.I.?” Albany contemplated. Brock had asked to hang out today, and I surprised myself by suggesting we should spend the day at my place. Needless to say, I spent the entire morning before work cleaning.

Albany noticed how antsy I was throughout the work day and was finally able to squeeze the truth out of me. She explained why she thought I was making a mistake of meeting with Brock, but when I shrugged off her warnings she stubbornly got in my carpool and followed me home. So here we are, me trying to explain to my boss why I think it’s okay for me to hang out with a man who I let borrow my fabric softener, and my boss declining every optimistic possibility I think of.

Blah.    

“I’m just saying! For all we know he could be a mass murderer!” Albany concluded.

“Would you just give it a rest? At least give the guy a-!” Before I could finish my accusation, the doorbell chimed. “It’s him!”

“Fine, but don’t blame me when we’re all standing around your coffin…” I decided to let that one slide.  

“Amani!” Brock cheered, enveloping me in a hug.

“Hey, Brock!” I exclaimed, returning the hug. “Come in!” I strutted over to a table with hand sanitizer and generously lathered my hands. “I hope you don’t mind, but another friend of mine decided to stop by, too. Her name’s Albany, we work together. Well, actually, she’s my boss.”

“Any friend of yours is a friend of mine!” That was cheesy… But still, at least he’s more optimistic than some people. Ahem.

“Hi, you must be Albany! I’m Brock; it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

A huge grin developed on Albany’s face, “H-hi.”  

It ended up being a phenomenal afternoon; the three of us were getting along perfectly! We concluded the evening by calling ourselves a trio, and we promised each other to get together again soon.

Maybe things won’t be too bad in this coastal town after all.  

“So, do you maybe wanna go to a bar or something tonight? After work?” Albany questioned. She and I have been having these chats every morning before work for a while now.

“I don’t know. Why?” I asked while pulling on my pants.

“To celebrate! Duh!” I was silent; I was completely oblivious to whatever she was talking about. “Oh, shoot! I so just gave that away didn’t I?” 

“Albany, what are you-?”

“I guess I’ll just have to tell you now…”

“Tell me what?!” Sheesh, the girl sure knows how to draw out suspense. 

“You’re getting a promotion today!”

“A promotion?! Already? You can’t be serious!”

“You’ve honestly blown us away these past few weeks, it’s the least we can do. Besides, you deserve it!”

“Yes.”

“Huh?”

“Yes, let’s celebrate! We’ll go out straight after work!”

“That’s the spirit, girl! Well, I’ll see you at the meeting. And act surprised when I announce it, will you?”

“You got it!”

“You want something to drink?” Albany looked like a kid in the candy store when we stepped into that bar, her eagerness was almost laughable. 

“Nah, I think I’m good.”

“Fine, suit yourself.” I watched her practically skip off to the bar and order a drink, while I decided to head out on the dance floor for a little bit. Albany soon joined me, drink in hand, and the two of us were dancing like nobody was watching.  That night must’ve been the most fun I’ve had in months! 

“You know who I think’s cute?” Albany confessed after her fourth drink.

“Who?” I asked, the two of us taking a seat on a nearby couch.

“Brock! He’s so dreamy…” Albany slurred before releasing an immense burp. 

“Really?”

“Mhmm.” 

Once I dropped Albany off at her house (you seriously didn’t think I was going to let her drive herself home, did you?), I came home and called Brock.

“Hey. You’ll never guess who has a crush on you!”

“Who?” 

“Albany! You should totally ask her out!”

“I don’t know, Amani…”

“Oh, come on! What’s the worst that can happen?”

“It’s just, I don’t like her that way. I think of her as a great friend, like you.”

“At least give her a shot.”

“No, Amani. I don’t like her like that. And I don’t want to lead her on.”

“Fine,” I sighed, hanging up.

Boys.

Generation 1 Chapter 1: Amani Vista

The house wasn’t much, but it didn’t really matter. I was just grateful to have a clean, bacteria free place to rest my head at night. The place wasn’t faultless though, that’s for sure. Dust lined every corner and crevice throughout the home and the bathroom and kitchen were in desperate need of some scrubbing. Which is to be expected, the place hasn’t been used in eighteen years.

I scurried into the kitchen and found a note on the counter from my parents. It explained how they organized a job interview for me at the local Business tower, and how they doubted they would bother hiring a mechanical, freak of nature but decided it was still worth a shot. My interview was scheduled for noon, which was in half an hour, so I washed my hands a few times and then set off to hail taxi.   

“Seriously though, you’re exactly what we’re looking for! You’ll be a great addition to our family!” Albany squealed.

“Family?” I interrogated.   

“Of course, Silly! There’s only a few of us on our floor so we’re a close knit bunch. You’ll fit right in, I’m sure of it!”

“I don’t know, Ms. Hampton…”  

“Dear Berry! Don’t ever call me that again! Like I said, we’re family. Call me Albany! And what aren’t you sure about? You’ll fit right in here!”

“If it’s anything like school was, I’m bound to be an outcast. Not to mention I was just diagnosed with OCD…”

“And?”

“That’s not weird?”

“Amani, it’s not like you chose to be an Obsessive-Compulsive. It sort of just… happened. I guess it’s like cancer. No one really wants it, but people get it.”  

I was silent, my mind processing Albany’s explanation of my disorder. Albany was growing increasingly uncomfortable, shifting her weight and playing with her fingers. I barely noticed, still imagining things like the way she said they were. Is everyone really just as sweet and understanding as her?

In an attempt to break the awkwardness Albany chirped, “I love your top!”

“Thanks,” I smiled.

Albany wasn’t convinced. “Sweetie, I promise, I’ll personally make sure that you have a great time here in Barnacle Bay.”  

After eating dinner, I spent the remainder of my evening winding down and relaxing. I heavily enjoy the arts, so I spent my free time sculpting and playing my guitar. It was nice to be a peace, especially the night before my first day of work.

After work the next day (which went extremely well, I might add), I took a trip down to the local laundry mat to take care of some putrid clothing I found in the closet the previous night. It was a cute, little place with barely anyone there, so I had no problem finding an open washing machine. I gently placed the clothes in the machine, poured in some softener and set the machine to the appropriate settings. To help pass the time I began mentally recounting today’s sales for what must have been the tenth time, making sure the total was exact and far from error.

“Excuse me, Miss?” a husky voice inquired, interruption my accounting.

“Yes?”

“You don’t happen to have any fabric softener I can borrow, do you? I normally come prepared, but it looks like my dog poked a hole in my bottle…” He held up a bottle of softener and pointed to two small penetrations, then tipped it upside down to indicate it was empty.

I contemplated whether I should let a stranger (who could potentially be dying of a contagious disease, for all I know!) use my laundry essentials. Eh, what the heck. “Sure. Here you go.” 
 

A few moments later he was back with the bottle, “Thanks. I appreciate it…”

“Amani.”

“Thank you, Amani. I’m Brock Hannan. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” I agreed.

“So, how long have you lived here? I’m a local, been here since I was a kid, and I don’t recognize your face.”

“Actually, I just moved here yesterday.”

“Oh, really? So how are you liking the city so far?”  

And it went on like that for a few hours, even after both of our loads were washed and dried. I was so relaxed talking to him; he was such a great listener and tried his best to understand what I was going through with my parents shunning me. When I ran out of things to say, he’d find another way to spark the conversation up again. But when I glanced at my watch and noted that it was ten, I knew I couldn’t keep talking like this forever.

“I had a really nice time talking with you tonight, Brock,” I confessed.

“Here, put your number in my phone. We’ll be sure to hang out again sometime.” We swapped phones and exchanged numbers, then said our goodbyes.

Brock seemed like he would make great friend material, but I don’t think I can see the two of us as an item. Either way, I’m pretty sure I walked out of that laundry mat with a friend.

Generation 1 Prologue: Amani Vista

“Miss Vista,” Dr. Fischer looked solemnly into my eyes before continuing with his movie-like speech, “I regret to inform you that you have been diagnosed with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, more commonly known as OCD.” Mom gasped, and Dad instantly put a comforting arm around her, cooing words of consolation.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I mumbled, picking a piece of lint off of my freshly pressed shirt.

“This is no joking matter, Amani!” Mom shrieked from behind me. Sheesh, you would’ve thought the doctor just told me I had one week to live based on her reaction…

“Now, for treatment I was thinking-” Ugh, I hate how he acts like I’m just another situation in one of his college textbooks!

“Actually, I think I’m comfortable living with my disorder,” I stated proudly.

Mom sniffled, wiping her eyes with a Kleenex. “What did you just say?”

“I don’t want treatment, Mum.”

“What?! That’s crazy! Amani, we’ve raised you much better than that! Besides, it’s up to us, we’re your parents.” A smug smile spread across her face as she proved her point.   

“Actually, Mrs. Vista, it’s up to Amani. With her birthday being last week, she’s officially an adult and the law states that she is now allowed to make these types of decisions,” Dr. Fischer piped up, assisting my point of view beautifully. “It would be different, however, if her life was in danger. But with her form of the disease, she should be capable of living as close to a normal life as possible.”

“But we’re her parents! That’s got to count for something!” Dad chimed in.

“You can beg and plead all you want Mr. Vista, but Amani has the final say with what she does here.”   

Three pairs of eyes simultaneously settled on me. “I’m fine guys, really. I’ve been dealing with it for all these years; I can handle it for however long I need to.” Knowing my decision had minimal chance of being swayed; I stood up from the cushioned chair and grabbed my Coach purse. 

“Alrighty then, I’ll just cancel the prescription and be on my way. You folks have a nice day.” Dr. Fischer hastily grabbed my file from his desk and bolted out of his office, leaving the three of us to contemplate the life changing move I had just conducted in a matter of seconds.  

“Are you sure you want to go through with this, Amani?” my mother inquired coldly.

“Yes, Mom, it’s what I want.” My dad grunted at my persistence.

“Then I’m afraid this is ‘Goodbye!’, Amani. I have absolutely no desire to have an unreasonable perfectionist living under my roof. Your father and I surely won’t miss you or your obnoxious ways a bit, so don’t bother staying in contact. I’m ashamed to know that you’re the result of eighteen years of dedication and hard work.”    

And that was that. My mother was unfortunately true to her word and I was in a cab to Barnacle Bay that afternoon. Thankfully, she hadn’t just thrown me out on the street. She gifted me the key to a summer home I had no knowledge of and sent me on my merry way.

So here I am, Amani Vista, ready to start a life with the little that I have. A life of balance and harmony.

Amani Vista! ^-^

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