Do Unto Others...

Chapter 5: Luck Run Out

First National Bank, June 17th, 8:31 a.m.

When Pete had woken to the sound of a car driving by, he had instantly known that he had overslept. What he hadn't known was that he had overslept by nearly two hours.

To any normal person, it would have been an opportune time to curse and then quickly try to fit all the morning rituals into less than fifteen minutes. But he wasn't a normal person. He hadn't slept in since he was a child, and that had only been a result of the sedatives the doctors gave him after his mother died…

If Pete had woken up on time, he would have been able to go through the motions of his morning routine. The long run would have settled his triggered nerves, letting him maintain a calm façade for the day with ease. He would have been able to sit and relax after showering and getting dressed, treating himself to breakfast and the newspaper as the weather and traffic played over the radio. The ride into the city would have been busy, as always, but he would have made it fifteen minutes early and be one of the first to clock in. A quiet, typical morning made it possible for him to start the day on a balanced foot, not having to juggle or worry or grow anxious over all of the things that haunted him.

But hadn't woken on time. He had no time for a run or a meal, barely enough for a shower and a shave. Pete had driven in blind on a traffic accident on the parkway, the estimated time on the overhead board declaring that getting into the city would take up to nearly two hours. Before leaving the house, he had already phoned the bank to make them aware of his tardiness, but his estimated time of arrival had become a joke. They would stare at him, they would whisper and wonder…

And during the two hours he spent amidst hundreds of other taillights, Pete gripped the steering wheel, tightening and loosening his hold as if he were slowly choking it. Futile horn honks echoed in his ear, the exhaust of tailpipes filtered into the Jeep and a headache quickly began throbbing in his temples.

He knew if he allowed himself to lose his temper, his already marred day would be entirely ruined. Instead, he apologized for his behavior to the silence of his car. He apologized to himself for his lack of self control. He apologized to his mother for being weak, for not being a better man.

With his focus elsewhere, whenever the traffic inched forward, he would remain idle and it would take a few horn honks to bring him back.

Just before the turnoff for downtown, he was held back by an officer who had the regrettable task of overseeing the scene of a three care motor vehicle accident. While rescue and cleanup crews worked behind the marked off area, the officer was enforcing everyone who had not yet merged left to do so in an orderly fashion. Although Pewte had already done so, he was motioned to stop to let another car in head of him From behind him, drivers unaware of the situation blared their horns angrily and shouted out their windows. It wasn't Pete's fault. He had to remind himself that it wasn't his fault and they didn't understand and...

He glanced in the rear view mirror to see a woman behind him in a red sedan as she pounded on her horn, her face furious and shouting something.

She didn't understand, it wasn't his fault the officer told him to…

"Move, ass hole!" she finally called out her window, even though the officer was in plain sight.

In conjunction with his oversleeping, lowered control and tardiness for work, he leaned out his window and called back, "I can't, you stupid whore!"

Her face waned in shock momentarily, then returned to its previous scowl as she flipped him off.

Pete drew in oxygen hungrily before undoing his seatbelt and opening his car door, growling lowly to himself. It was only as his foot touched the pavement that he realized his poor choice of action, a direct result to everything that had gone wrong for him that morning. That month. His entire life.