Shortness of Breath [songfics]

Hate my Life by Theory of a Deadman

Songfic 1: Vengeance and Peace

So sick of the hobos always begging for change

I don't like how I gotta go to work and

They just sit around and get paid

With a sigh, Jeremiah lit his cigarette and began his walk to work, watching as grey smoke billowed out into the fresh air. As he turned the corner, he spotted a clearly drunk, homeless man sitting on the curb with a money-filled hat in his hands. Jeremiah slid a hand into his coat pocket to get his wallet. "Hey man," he greeted the beggar, flicking two coins into the hat. The beggar stared down at the coins as if they were dirt and didn't reply. So much for charity, thought Jeremiah with a sharp tutting sound. Still, he carried on to work.

I hate all the people who can't drive their cars.

B*tch you better get out of the way

Before I start falling apart

    As always, Ruby McLee was reversing out of her driveway as Jeremiah passed her house, and as always, she was taking long enough for him to be able to read every road sign within a five metre radius of him. "So sorry, Jeremy!" Ruby called in her irritating way as she disappeared into the distance.

      "It's Jeremiah!" he shouted after her. He didn't bother seeing if she heard. She wouldn't have cared, anyway. Still, he carried on to work.

I hate how my wife is always up my a**

She always wants to buy brand new things

But I don't have the cash.

      Jeremiah was just about to enter the building he worked at when he heard someone yelling his name. He squinted at the sight of a blonde woman in a slim-fitting dress sprinting down the path towards him. "Natalie?" he yelled back, fumbling in his bag for his glasses. Before Jeremiah could find them, the woman's arms were around his neck and her lips were pressed to his cheek.

      "Thank God I caught up with you," Natalie panted.

      Suddenly, Jeremiah became concerned. "Why? What's up?"

      He pulled Natalie's body away from her to look into her eyes. A bead of sweat was dripping down her forehead, so she hauled off her cardigan. "I need some money, quickly," she explained.

      "Why? I thought we'd paid the rent?"

      "No, no," Natalie sighed, exasperated, "Darren invited me to go shopping with him."

      Jeremiah allowed his worried expression to fade and replaced it with an utterly annoyed one. "Why am I married to you?" he asked himself as he gave her his wallet. She embraced him before running back down the path.

      Feeling like total crap, Jeremiah facepalmed. He needed that wallet.

      Still, he went inside his workplace.

How come I never get laid? Nice guys always lose

      As per usual, Jeremiah found himself inside his boss's office gawking at some random blonde bombshell wrapped around his waist with her fingers ripping through his receding hairline. Jeremiah coughed lightly to try and get his boss's attention, but all he got in return was two fingers swearing at him.

I still hate my job; my boss is a d*ck

I don't get paid nearly enough

To put up with your sh*t

      Ten minutes later, the bombshell (named 'Laura', according to her lopsided name tag) was staring at herself in a mirror and Jeremiah was facing the fifty-year-old boss he'd just watch make out with some gold-digging twenty-year-old. "So, Jeremy."

      "It's Jeremiah." What is so hard about remembering my name?!

      "Jeremiah," Mr Green corrected himself, "We need to talk."

      For the second time that day, Jeremiah's expression was filled with concern. "What's up?" At Mr Green's unimpressed raising eyebrows, Jeremiah added, "What's up, sir?"

      "You're fired."

...If you're pissed like me,

B*tches, here's what you gotta do

Put your middle fingers up in the air

Go on and say, "Fuck you!"

     This was it.

      Jeremiah could do anything. Already, he'd punched the moron out of his idiotic boss. Now, it was time to avenge all the times Ruby had nearly run him over.

      Her car wasn't home yet, so he still had time.

      He got the unused banner she'd laid out on her front lawn to decorate later on and graffiti-painted the words, 'LEARN TO DRIVE!' across it. Maybe that'll imprint the message on her mind, Jeremiah thought to himself triumphantly.

      Next on the agenda was the homeless man. It seemed cruel, since he was poor, but Jeremiah's fury was fueling his energy, and in that moment, he felt unstoppable. So he snatched away that hat and scattered the money in the street, allowing a crowd of people to flock around the road like cash-hungry crows, the dollar signs evident in their eyes. "Hey!" the beggar shrieked, "What d'ya think your doing with my money?!"

      Finally, once he got home, Jeremiah completed his last vengeful act: he grabbed every piece of clothing his wife had ever purchased with his hard-earned money and watched it fly out of the window. As each dress, skirt and jacket sailed down with the slight breeze, Jeremiah frowned. Everything seemed so . . . peaceful. Life wasn't filled with hate for those dresses; it was just breeze and drifting. Something clicked inside of him. Jeremiah didn't know if he was fixing himself by lowering his feet out onto the windowsill or breaking his own heart into smaller pieces. All he knew was that he wanted peace. So he decided to drift with those dresses, and he leaped out into the air, soaring for a while before dropping to the ground with a dull thump.

      Blood settled into a puddle surrounding his head, and someone came along and concealed his closed eyes beneath one of his wife's favourite cardigans.

      Jeremiah was at peace.

A/N: I know that's kind of shitty, but I'll try to make better (and less depressing) ones. Please comment with ideas of songs!

      I used www.azlyrics.com for the lyrics, just so you know!

      This is dedicated to LittleMissNight because she introduced to Theory of a Deadman, who are now one of my favourite bands. You should totally check out more of their songs :)

Songbird xox