I became paranoid, at work, at home, at the store, not a place was free from fear or paranoia. No matter how hard I tried, going out in public gave me full blown breakdowns, being at home was like sitting in toxic gas, and work felt like I was being watched from every corner. I tried to work and do things, yknow, function, but all these efforts were useless. I tried everything, even meditation, but that just made me burst out in tears. I had to face it, I was going insane.
Seeing how hard it was to compose myself, I stopped working, instead of working I sat in a fully lit room, in the corner, watching. My boss and I had a talk, he exclaimed that maybe it was my time to be let go of.
"You've been with us for 15 years, and we love you, but over the course of the past week, your productivity has gone down to 0, and you scare all of our workers."
"I'm being followed by a murderer, don't you care?? The only reason you hired me was because you felt bad, but now that it's backfiring on you, you let me go in the most dire situation of my life."
"Yes, yes, I know, but your behavior is scaring everyone, your actions make no sense."
"Give me one hour, I'll prove you wrong."
"If you say so Mr. Armstrong."
I returned to my office and just began to cry, bawling my eyes out, staring at the wall, I yell, "IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT OF ME?" My boss comes in.
"That's it. Pack your shit and get out. I don't care if you're about to be murdered, which from my standpoint, you aren't, it's time for you to get the fuck out of my offices."
"IF I DIE OR AM FOUND MISSING YOU'LL EAT SHIT YOU HEAR ME?"
"Really? Really now Mr. Armstrong? Now how exactly are you going to die, hm?"
"You know Ipswich's famed murderer on the run? Yeah well I'm his target. I found him out, so he's finding me."
"Cork it and get the fuck out."
I left those offices bawling my eyes out, holding all my stuff. I return to my car, place everything in and grab a jug I had in my trunk, a gallon of water. I grab it, take the top off, and throw it full speed at my bosses window before returning to my car and going home. He deserved it.
Getting home was exhausting, realizing that Mackey was getting what he wanted. He's going to do it. He's coming for me, even if I don't want it, it's happening.
YOU ARE READING
Summer of '04(Under Construction)
Hayran KurguThe fictional sequel to summer of '84, twenty years later, following the cruel events of years past. I always knew he'd never come back, and eventually I had forgotten about his threats, finding them dead and empty. Even if he came back, this man w...
