"And don't forget to come by tomorrow to collect your new scythe!", the young man sitting in front of her desk immediately sprang up, obviously very glad that he could finally escape the confines of her small and cramped bureau and the uncomfortable atmosphere it held.

The desk next to a very small window that seemed like it had not seen a rag in a very long time was overflowing with paperwork, old coffee cups that had various unmentionable cultures living in them and opened and dried-out inkwells. Over the whole office hung a nasty odor consisting mainly of alcohol and smoke.

The owner of said office sighed and let her head fall onto her table with an unpleasant sounding crash that snapped one of her pencils in half, which caused her to groan and lift her head once more. Her hands felt for the damaged pencil as she rightened herself up to sit in the chair properly. She carelessly wiped the white hair away that was hanging into her face listlessly, snorting at the action. It wasn't like it was going to do anything.

"This is all stupid.", muttered the woman, pushing the paper mountain away from her and accidentally sending half of it flying over the edge of her table that seemed absolutely dwarfed under the sheer masses of the paper. They knew she couldn't read squat, why were they still giving her paperwork? Probably just to rub her own incompetence into her face.

She didn't bother lifting her head when she heard the door open. Probably just another of her superiors who decided to come by and yell at her. "Have you finished the papers yet?", she sighed when she recognized the voice and was able to identify her superior, Hudson, who was one of the few who still insisted on her doing paperwork, even though it was quite obvious that she was in no condition to do so, making her wonder what she'd ever done to the man. Maybe he still hadn't gotten over the fact that she'd gotten to do field work and he'd been pushed off into the administrative division. That misogynistic asshole, she thought darkly, he'd always belittled her work and never taken her seriously, even when she'd been one of the best reapers the field division had had to offer. Now, she only smiled at her superior sweetly, even though she wanted to jump into his face and carve into him with the little, stupid, useless scythe they'd given her when she had recovered.

"Cut that crap, Charlotte. It seems that you, again, simply wasted your time here instead of actually doing some work like all the other reapers.", said Hudson and she could nearly see how disdainful he was looking at her.

"That's Miss Barnes for you.", Charlotte retorted frostily, letting her own disdain for the male in front of her seep into her tone. "And you know very damn well that I can't do the fuckin' Paperwork, you twat.", she added snarkily, glaring into the direction she thought he was standing. "No need to start spitting insults. I'm well aware of your", Hudson paused thoughtfully, making her even more pissed, "disadvantage. However, you should still be able to hand out new scythes and handle the correlating paperwork, no?", now he was straight-out mocking her. She snarled at him and attempted to lunge at the irritating man but only managed to slip on one of the papers that had fallen to the floor sometime before, and slammed onto her table, her face landing in some unidentifiable slimy liquid she really hoped wasn't ink. She let out an decidedly undignified groan and gritted her teeth when she heard Hudson chuckle quietly above her. "I would really clean that up if I were you- the next client is coming in here in ten minutes." Charlotte didn't move until he was out of the door, no doubt telling the whole office floor about how she was becoming an addicted lunatic once more because he certainly hadn't yet told absolutely everyone. She contemplated if it would be comfortable to just fall asleep, and after a few conflicted debates, she decided to sit up again and at least actually attempt to clean some of this mess.

When the young woman left with a slip of paper that she'd had to write herself with Charlotte telling her what exact words should be on it through gritted teeth, Charlotte couldn't handle the stuffiness of her office any longer. Stumbling after not moving for such a long time, she moved to leave the office, taking her coat and not bothering to close the door after her.

Thankfully, no one stopped her on her way home and she was glad that by now she was able to at least get to work and back again without having to ask for aid.

When she arrived at home, she found that she once again had forgotten to close the door to the small, unnecessary balcony everyone in her block had, and now there was an unpleasant, cold breeze flowing through her flat. When she tried to close the door however she found a small paper slip stuck between the door and the frame. As she righted herself up from her crouch she cursed darkly when her head collided with the doorframe, making it throb unpleasantly.

With the paper in hand she felt her way over to the small dining table and sat down heavily. Then Charlotte cursed again when she realized she wouldn't be able to read the stupid piece of paper and she crumpled the slip into a ball and flung it at the wall opposite of her.

She didn't bother with picking it up again.

Not for the first time the female reaper wondered what it would be like to just never wake up again. Ever since she lost her eyesight, she felt like she'd lost her purpose in life as well, or the after-life, depending on how she looked at it. She snorted. Even in her past life she had had no purpose, and now that she'd found one, it was ripped away from her brutally. When she'd still been in the Retrieval Dispatch she at least had had something to do, she thought, her sight-less eyes wandering around with no particular goal in mind. Now she just sat around in a dingy, small office all day, doing nothing and occasionally administering a new death scythe. Absentmindedly, her hand strayed to one of the countless bottles of alcohol that were scattered all through-out her flat. At least she'd always be surprised about the contents of a bottle she took, since she couldn't see the table, Charlotte thought darkly, some strands of her hair stuck to the rim of the bottle she currently clutched like a lifeline. Charlotte then launched into chucking the whole bottle down as fast as she could, eager to forget just for a few hours just how miserable her life had become. With her free hand, she lit a cigarette, and considered the consequences if she were to light the alcohol on fire.