VICTORY - H.S.

one

Word Count: 4,018

Harry's POV:

The cool liquid burns my throat as I finish off my fourth drink of the night. I don't remember how long I've been here, all I know is I don't plan on leaving anytime soon.

The faint buzzing coming from the old refrigerator is all I can focus on. It holds a familiar feeling to it, only intriguing me more. I don't know why, but it triggers something inside me. A feeling of despair and regret. I take a sip of the drink that was just placed in front of me as I think back to this morning.

Walking into my kitchen, I turned on the faucet to fill up a glass of water. I stared at the wall as I sipped my drink, listening to the same buzzing come from my fluorescent lights that flickered on and off as I stood there. Every morning I wake up to the same thing. I go to my kitchen, grab a glass of water and stand there thinking the same damn thing. How did I get here?

Growing up, I always wanted to be somebody. It didn't matter where I was or what I was doing, I just wanted to do something that mattered. I could've been a scientist, a teacher, hell, I could've been a doctor if I wanted to. My mom always said, "Harry, if you're doing something that makes you happy, no one can tell you that you aren't successful." I wish I was still naive enough to believe that bullshit.

Truth is, no matter who you are or what you're doing, someone will always have shit to say. Whether it's about how you look, or your career, or even what your hobbies are, you'll never be perfect. That's just a fact. I used to believe that if I did something memorable, or became someone for the people rather than for myself, I would be happy. What a fucking joke. If that were true then I wouldn't be sitting in a run down bar, drowning in self pity, as well as vodka, wondering where the fuck my life went wrong.

Ever since the accident, I've felt as though I had no control over how my life turned out. I mean, we can go on and on about things we want to accomplish in life, but there is no guarantee that they are going to actually end up happening. Exhibit A, I spent 6 years of my life working towards my bachelors degree in computer science so that I could secure a job in the technological field, only so I would have a stable income as well as a brand for myself.

Low and behold, that never happened. As soon as I graduated college, I applied to multiple corporations and got rejected from every single one of them. I spent 2 more years just trying to find something to do when I finally decided to settle and work as a technology assistant at a fucking middle school.

Thats when I realized, my life as well as everyone else's are completely out of our control. Why should I continue to try my very best when the universe is just going to continue to screw me in the ass?

Which is why I'm here right now. After another long and miserable day of fixing 12 year olds computers, I figured it would be a fantastic idea to come and enjoy a few drinks alone. Just like I do every night.

Staring at the bottles of liquor in front of me, taking slow sips of my fifth drink, my thoughts get interrupted by a group of women occupying the seats next to me.

"Excuse me, sir. I'm sorry to interrupt but may I ask you a quick question?" As I turn my head I identify the girl trying to talk to me. She's got blonde hair, medium length I would say, and she's definitely attractive.

I shoot back the remainder of my drink and turn in my seat to face her.

"Go ahead."

She turns in her seat to face me so our knees are almost touching, giving me her full attention like I did. "Now this is a fake scenario, but I want your honest answer, okay?" She asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before looking me dead in the eye. I nod.