Seen It All Before

Life Cycles

     The clickty-clacks of the keyboard were in unrelentless harmony alongside the running printers, phone bleeps, and rustling papers of the office atmosphere. The smell of ink was always looming in the air, mixing in with the smog of downtown New York City that crept in from the slightly ajar windows. August Hayes spun in his 1980's office chair, gazing at the bustling city life fifteen stories down. People could be seen hustling to and fro, carrying large shopping bags, pushing along small children, or clinging to their significant other.

     August had always been accostumed to the city life, yet the sheer amount of people continued to astound him. He was a young and flourishing man of twenty, coming from a well established family. His undoubtly handsome features swooned girls ever since he was a teenager, yet he settled down with his high school sweetheart; Teracia. The couple's home life however, was not great, and the immature and rushed marriage led to the now looming desire of divorce.

     "Mr. Hayes?" A voice that coincided with a knock at the door asked, slightly startling August.

     "Yes," he replied, straighting his shirt. "Come in."

     In came the manager of the insurance company he worked for; a man by the name of Walter Heid. Mr. Heid had harsh and stern features, a face almost like an old soldier who had been scarred in war. His eyes were surrounded by layers of wrinkles, and his teeth were a ghostly pale yellow. He wore the same collared white shirt with his kacki slacks everyday; a simple red tie was the only thing that differentiated this day from the rest. His black one must have gotten soiled.

      "I have good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?" Heid's deep and croaky voice questioned.

     August thought for a second,

     "Bad."

    Walter Heid took a deep breath,

     "Mr. Hayes, due to the lack of resources and funds, we have to let you go. You're fired."

     Fired.

     That word hit him like a slap in the face.   

This job was the one thing keeping him  afloat in the hard economic times. He needed the money to sign off on the divorce.

     "Goddammit." He cursed.

     "The good news is," Heid continued, unaffected, "we can give you a check to help you get along for a bit." The manager took his checkbook out of his pocket and scribbled down some information before handing it to August. He looked at it for a second then slammed it down on the desk,

     "A fucking mariachi band could make more on a subway than this."

     "Sorry August, its all we can afford. Be thankful you got something. I had to let go a lot of people who recieved nothing."

    August Hayes clenched onto the check and stormed out of the office. He didn't bother to collect his things either. Quickly walking, he left the building and into the parking lot. Once he got home, he sunk into the couch, only to be met with his wife.

Their apartment was of a decent size, the walls a light cream color. The furniture was a bit outdated, but not considerably hideous. There was a hint of smoke engraved into the apartment as the previous owners of ten years had a particularly chronic cigarette addiction.  Of course smoking was prohibited, but who really gave a shit for the rules? The landlords lived in uptown Bejjing, and had never even set foot in the building.

    

"Why are you home early? Don't you know we actually need money these days. We cann't afford for you to be sick-" Teracia continued to ramble on, August collapsing his head into his palms,

     "I got fired."

     "Fired?!" Teracia practically screamed, "Why are you so keen on bullshitting this family!"

     August jumped to his feet, pulsing with rage,

     "So fucking my best friend doesn't qualify for 'bullshitting' this family but when I get let go all of our problems are my fault?"

     His wife stared at him with her deep chocolate eyes, her messy brown hair falling over her shoulders in small waves.

     "H-how did you find out?" She chocked, tears collecting in her eyes.

     August scoffed, "I found the shirt I gave him as a birthday gift under the bed."

     Teracia was petrified for a moment. Then, her shock turned to anger.

     "Why do you think I've been sleeping with him?" She screamed. "You never are home! All you do is walk to her grave and cry like the pathetic man you are!"

     August Hayes took a step closer to his wife,

     "What did you just say? I don't think I quite caught that."

     "I called you pathetic," she laughed, making sure to spit out the last word so it dug and engraved onto his mind like a headstone.

     Another step. This time, his face was right next to hers, his pale turquoise eyes firing bullets into hers.

    "Say it again," he growled.

     "You are the most pathetic and worthless piece of shit I've ever had the misfortune of knowing. And I'm glad she died. You deserve it."

     "YOU BITCH!" He hollered, violently pushing his wife in the chest. Startled by this outburst, she fell backwards, her head slamming against the wooden side table behind her.

Snap.

     Blood began to pool from her body, and August had an unavoidable gutwrenching feeling in his stomach.

     "Fuck."

     His eyes were plastered on her corpse, and he knew Teracia was dead. He began to panic, and sobs heaved throughout his body. He had just killed his wife. Her own glassy eyes gazed directly at him, sending chills coursing up his spine. Fumbling around, he was unsure of what to do. Tossing away logic and practicality, he ran to his room and began to collect a few of his basic things: clothes, toiletries, passport, and his savings that he kept underneath his bed.

     "Where is it, where is it, goddamn where is it?" He mumbled to himself, blindly sticking his hands behind his formal clothing in the closest. Finally, he found it- a black metal safe. Twisting in the combination, the safe clicked, revealing what was inside. He pulled the small handgun from the safe, grabbed his suitcase, and sprinted out of the room. Right before he left his apartment, he turned back once more to look at his wife. His stomach turned,

     "What the hell have I done..."

He knew he didn't have long. The body would soon begin to rot, producing an awful odor. There was no way he could take the body out, and even if he could, people would soon realize she went missing; he could do only one thing.

Run.