Ona didn't so much as glance in the rear view mirror as she pulled away. Her mind was already in other places. The only was to drown out her self-loathing was to constantly immerse herself in other things. Most often these "things" were work related, occasionally it was shopping or dressing or makeup. She was so utterly lonely and yet allowed herself no time to ever attempt to meet or speak to other people. She was petrified of it really. Her mind constantly played out all of the ways that she could be rejected by every person she met or even saw. They all judged her. She knew it was so, and it drove the cycle back around to suffocating herself in meaningless busywork that drained her very soul every second of every day. 

She went straight to work. A fake smile spread on her face as she greeted those she passed, explaining at the desk that Jules had made it on time and not needed any assistance, so she thought she'd come in and get the files ready. No one cared. To everyone else, Ona was there because Ona had nowhere else to be. No one had ever heard of Ona going out with friends, or going on a date. No one ever saw Ona outside of work. Ona worked, and people assumed that she slept sometimes... and that was about it. The girl at the desk smiled and nodded, politely responding to Ona's story despite her eyes screaming for Ona to shut up and leave her alone. Ona made her way back to the meager office that she shared with Jules for desk work. It was cramped and the files took up more space than the desks and chairs. The surface of her desk was almost indiscernible under the new stacks of folders. 

She closed the door as she stepped in, pausing and letting her meager weight fall back against the cold surface. The chill of the wood dulled where the straps of leather wrapped her torso. For a moment she felt as though her entire chest might cave in if she opened even one more folder, read one more name. Her throat tightened and she struggled to breathe, imagining herself crumpling to the floor and ceasing to exist right where she stood, but nothing happened, and the files stayed there, so she pushed off the door and moved to sink in to her chair. Once there, the robotic habitual behaviors kicked in. She opened each file, read and re-read. She organized them... categorized them. She shifted them again and again, based on the most minute of details.

In the closet sized office with no windows time stood still. Outside the hours passed, people wrapped up and left, the janitors came in and cleaned, and the lights were shut off and the doors locked. No one bothered to check on Ona, no one cared. No one so much as batted an eyelash at the one last vehicle sitting in the parking garage. Somewhere in the middle of the night, the exhaustion got the best of her and she fell asleep with her face on her desk and a file in her hand. She was surrounded by papers with brightly colored flag markers sticking out of them. The lights stayed on, and her computer gave off a soft humming sound. It was perfect. Ona dreamt that she too had gone on a beautiful tropical vacation, only the water was clear and the sky blue. She was beautiful in a bikini bathing suit. She could feel the warmth on her face and shoulders. It was perfect.