Awakened

(I hope you don't mind if I steal your music idea Chainer)

He had a physically bloodied and broken look on his face, a look unlike most of the drunks that spend their time here. It was fresh and hurt to watch. He looked like a washed-up dog worn and torn from a fight; a wild animal set loose upon its abusive owners. Dried blood covered part of his face and stained the lapel of his once nice suit-jacket. The shoddy bandage over the bridge of his nose was barely holding up against the smoke emanating from his bent cigarette. The oddest thing was the damned fool had a smile across his busted mug.

I had to ask him, I was just too curious. “Hey there good sir, how ‘bout another round?”
The only response I received was a nod as he pushed his glass towards me with a hand masked by another bandage. I filled the glass and explored further. “So…what brings ya down to my fine pub on this fine night?”

He gives a small smirk, “Your fine service and fine booze of course.”

I give out a hearty laugh. At least he has all his teeth, “That is a mighty good reason. Now normally I don’t get involved inta’ the personal lives of my customers, but I just gotta ask-”

“You ever get that feeling like you woke up and wondered where did the past few years of my life go?” He looked me in the eyes and I saw that one of them was still slightly bleeding.

I gave him a shrug, “Boy, I have trouble rememberin’ what it is I did the night before.” I began to laugh again. “Though it seems to me like ya had a rough day, now hows ‘bout you tell me all about it?”

The man finishes his drink and gets up from his stool. As he puts some crumpled bills onto the bar looks up to me with another smirk, “I’m sorry but perhaps the next time I can tell you the whole story. I can’t stay in one place for too long, thanks for the drinks.”

I give him a small nod and a wave goodbye in return, “I’ll hold ya to that then, good sir.”

Another day at work, another miserable cloudy day. I hate Mondays. A man named Edward Asher steps off the subway train and makes his way to work. After a short, repetitive walk down the same street to the same building as each and every other day. Edward walks through the spinning door and into the elevator full of coworkers and colleagues wearing similar suits and familiar ties. He stepped off onto the 25th floor for what seemed like the thousandth time.

Edward sat down in his chair in his cubical and swore he could hear the bars slide shut behind him. His boss swung by his desk and reminded him about the meeting at 2:00 PM and that this Friday was Wacky Tacky Tie Day. He left with his signature toothy grin and snicker. The air here permeated with the stench of kissing ass, fake smiles, and lies through closed teeth. I don’t know how long I can come back to this place until I too, become what I hate.

Throughout the day it only got worse. Edward slowly worked on his reports just like the week before. The printer ran out of ink again, no one bothered to fill it back up. Lunch was nothing more than a simple sandwich and some water, the same as last week. Everything began to fold over onto each other and time was beginning to fade. Edward sometimes forgot what day of the week it was because it was always the same routine each day.

The meeting began as scheduled. Most of Edward’s fellow cubical convicts took notes on the presentation given by a representative of another company. It was the same old bullshit, the boss kept asking stupid questions prolonging the meeting just so he can feel intelligent. It pisses me off…

Before even Edward knew it, he ran on top of the table to where his boss was sitting. There he grabbed his boss’s new briefcase with the just-polished silver locks and a soft, leather handle. With the briefcase in hand, Edward takes a hard swing across the face of its owner.

Edward stood before his boss who was now bleeding from his face onto the floor. There was a call for police and the building’s security personnel were already on their way. He turned to face his coworkers; he met eyes with Philip Fairway, the schedule manager. The bastard always scheduled me for the weekend early in the morning, especially after I requested that I didn’t work at those times. He always tried to torment me with what little power he had.

Philip backed up against the window behind him and began to sweat as he looked towards the door hoping for the security to come in, “Now…now…Mr. Asher, I-I think it would be best if we calm down and discuss this like civil men!”

Edward had completely lost it, dropped the briefcase, and charged full-speed at Philip Fairway. I wish I could take a picture of the expression plastered over his face, priceless.

The shattered glass fell along with the rain, impaling the ground below. Seconds later came two men, falling with the rain as if they were sent down from the clouds and the heavens above. Edward felt as he had finally awoken from a never-ending dream as he dropped further and faster.