#Wattys2017 - A Glimpse of Freedom

Chapter Six - Joey Peterson

 Work has been a lot more difficult lately. It doesn't help noticing the glares Daisy has been shooting at me. I can't even bring myself to look at her, my stomach starts to hurt and I feel like throwing up when I do. Waking up in the morning I had to make sure nobody was beside me, and fortunately I was alone. I have to avert my gaze to straight ahead of me whenever I pass Daisy's cubicle. I can't let her see the regret in my eyes, I can't let her see me weak. It'll just make her angrier to see the shell of a man I'm becoming.

I feel as if I've slowed at work. I think Joey feels it too. He's begun to monitor me more, constantly asking what I'm up to. I can see the disappointment in his eyes when I tell him I've been working on the same thing for two hours. I can sense the dissatisfaction in his voice when tells me to work harder. Regret is holding me back and guilt is punching me in the gut. The hangovers haven't been helping, either.

I can put off the problem for as long as I have until Jenny returns. I know I won't be doing so well when she returns. I've become accustomed to drinking at the night. Now I know how Jenny feels whenever she drinks. Alcohol is like a painkiller; it'll numb the pain until everything fixes itself and goes away, or it will get worse. The latter is the most likely for this situation. Alcohol is the only thing keeping me sane. It's ironic because alcohol is what caused this whole mess.

The alcohol will do its best to hide the pain I'm going through up until the point in which I need alcohol at work. I doubt I'll even be working here long enough for that to happen; Joey has been giving me the same look he gives to all the people he fires. I feel like he's just waiting for the perfect moment in which I screw up. As a matter of fact, the only reason he hasn't fired me now is because I have seniority, I assume. I don't match up to the pace of some of the younger people here anymore, and everyone else my age is higher up in position. He only pays me because he can't fire me.

I can't bring up the idea of a raise to Joey, either. I already know that talking about a raise will anger him. In his eyes, I'm probably just not working as hard as I used to and I lack enthusiasm. I wouldn't be surprised if he pulled me aside for a "talk"; the same talk he gives everyone he fires in the following month. The talk is normally about a lack of effort and sluggishness, and normally ends on a "good" note. The following couple of days, whoever gets the talk will be happy for a few days, and Joey will have fun crushing their spirits. That's just the type of guy Joey is; ruthless and mean.

I need to pull myself back up, but no matter how rapidly I type away on my keyboard, nothing changes. I'm getting slower, older, colder. My hair is greying, wrinkles are appearing. I don't know what I can do about that, it all comes with age, but it feels symbolic of something. Every gray hair feels like every day I've lost to the cycle so many people are stuck in. Every wrinkle represents the mistakes I've made. I'm not perfect, for sure, but I can at least do better.

Joey approached me with a smile. Despite how happy he seemed I already knew whatever was coming was not good.

"Marvin!" Joey says aloud. He draws the attention of the other employees, who pause their work for just a moment to glance over before typing away again.

"Hey, Joey." I say, trying to seem as enthusiastic about the conversation as possible.

"Look, you haven't been on your game lately, I've noticed. I need you to pick yourself up and keep moving, alright?" Joey said. I had no room to even give an explanation.

"Alright," I reluctantly say, and Joey smiles.

"That's what I want to hear, buddy! Look, don't feel threatened, alright? I'm not here to criticise you, I think you're doing okay. I just think you could be doing a little bit better. Keep doing what you're doing, just do it faster, alright?" he said condescendingly. I look at him and try to hide how much I don't like him, and he seems to pick up on it. His smile wavers for just a moment before it gets wider and he walks off.

All the while, Daisy was looking at me, and she was smiling evilly. She knew what was coming too; everyone in the office does. Daisy is the one who benefits most. Not Joey, who wastes money paying me, not anyone else who's paycheck I might be replacing. Daisy is the one who gets the most out of me getting fired because she won't have to see my ugly face again.