The first time I ever saw him he was standing behind me, in my bathroom mirror. I didn't think much of it, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me again, especially since I was so tired. So tired after working a 65 hour work week, just to pay the bills. They kept piling up, it's not like I was lazy I just... it was impossible to support myself. Working two jobs didn't seem like enough, but it's never enough. My life force was being drained day by day, hour after hour, second after every god damn second. I was always working just to get by. What kind of life was that? That isn't any kind of life if you ask me. Never taking the time to find myself and what made me happy, happiness was thrown out of the window long ago. I was hit with an overwhelming wave of self doubt and depression, but who isn't these days?
The next day, I saw him again. He wasn't standing behind me this time, it's like he wanted me to see him. Standing over in the corner of my room. I panicked, I have never seen anything so dark and twisted in my life. Hunched over, but yet still so tall. Hands so bloody and torn, like he stuck them in a garbage disposal. His eyes though, they were blood shot red. No hate in them, no anger, only agony and sadness. As I leaped from my bed I asked him. "Who are you?" Silence had never been so quiet. It seemed as though the entire world stopped turning. Confused, I started to walk to the bedroom door slowly. I thought if I could just make it outside and call for help I'd be okay. He stood there lifeless, almost like a corpse, I say almost because all he did was watch me and nothing more. Still startled I ran, knocking over my living room table, pushing everything out of my way. Fearing that my life may end, at any moment in this silent dark house. Pulling open the door, I stopped and looked back. Not behind me or even in the same room as me. Fear, I tasted my own fear walking back to the bedroom. Checking every single corner and behind every object, even behind curtains, fearing that I would be stricken down. "Get the hell out of my house", I screamed. There was not a sound, nothing. Making my way down the hall to my room, I felt my heart beating out of my chest. Slowly entering my room where that man stood, he was still there. In the exact same spot, just watching me peek around the corner. "Please just leave me alone, or I'll call the cops", in a quiet yet polite tone. As he glared into my eyes, he finally spoke.
"You", is all he said to me. I couldn't feel my own breath anymore, it's like it was pulled right out of my chest. "What do you want from me?" I asked the man. He started to raise his hand, ever so slowly and lifted a single finger. Pointing right at me, with his long dirty fingers, a blood curdling scream came out. "You! You!". It shook the entire foundation of the house, growing louder and louder. "You! You! You!". He grew louder as he screamed, all I could eventually hear was a high pitch wining. Then, it just stopped. Silence took over once again. I thought to myself " Am I dead?". Opening my eyes ever so slowly. He vanished into thin air, like a thief in the night. Not stealing anything away from me but my sense of security. The house was completely empty like he was never there to begin with.
Dawn had finally broken, I could tell because I could hear my neighbor outside getting ready to go to work. Perhaps it was all just a nightmare, even though I don't recall falling asleep or waking up for that matter. Never the less I had to start getting ready for work, so I showered and got myself dressed and headed out the door. The day started normally like it would. Usual traffic jams in the morning, everyone took the same route to commute to work. As I walked into work, my boss was waiting for me at the door. "You're late again", he said with disappointing glare in his eye. "Traffic is backed up all the way down highway 95, I think there was an accident." I told him. "Well you should have called in and told me, or found another way around it" he exclaimed. The clock read 7:07, I was only 7 minutes late. I leave the house every morning at 6:00 am, only because if you don't leave then, you'll definitely be late to work. Even though my job was fifteen minutes away, the traffic turns that into an hour drive. "I'm sorry, but we have to let you go. That's the third time you've been late this week, so please clock out and leave". Never have I ever been parallel with anger, but I discovered what that felt like today. As much as I wanted to make a scene, I bit my tongue and walked out.
Enraged I slammed my car door, managing to break my window. Of all times too, it had been raining all morning. So much anger building up inside of me, so much sadness rushing from my eyes. How would I afford to live with just one job? I'll be kicked out of my house for sure, being that rent was already two months late. Picking my head up from the steering wheel, I pulled myself together and went home. Driving back was so much quicker than making my way to work, obviously since everyone has shifts to start early in the morning. Not a single person has time to just sit at home with bills to pay. Not I though, the laughingstock of the workforce. Thoughts filled my head as I drove back, should I even go home? Or should I just crash into a tree, no one would know it was on purpose. My family would just think I hydroplaned off the highway. What lies beneath me, is unknown to the world. All the rage, all the sadness, I was a broken man living in a world of deception.
Finally making it home, or at least for the next couple of days, I walked inside and went into my room to change. I thought hopefully I can still make rent with the last job I had left. The day went on and all I could do was stress about my living situation as a starred into the clock waiting for it to strike 4:15, then I could leave for my other job. It was a part time kind of thing but I needed to see if I could change that. Before I realized it, I fell asleep on my couch still exhausted from staying last night. Waking up in a panic, I turned to the clock. 8:47 pm. This can't be happening, of all the days this can't be happening. My phone was in my pocket, I pulled it out to call my job and see if I could still come in. One missed call, I don't ever remember hearing it ring. "Listen, if you aren't here within the next hour you will be terminated. I'm sorry we have to do this but rules are rules". My heart sank, I lost both of my sources of income in a matter of eleven hours. Tears started to roll down my face as I sank into the couch. Not even able to see straight I made my way into my bedroom and fell into my bed.
Growing cold, I pulled the blanket onto myself some more and bundled up. Then, realizing it wasn't the air that was freezing cold. It was just my neck, a cold shiver ran down my spine. As I rolled over, he stood there yet again with his cold seemingly lifeless body. Grinning at me with his rotted teeth, "You". I didn't panic this time, only wondered, wondered why he was here again. Slowly making my way towards him, I finally was able to see his face. He.....he was me, or he at least looked like me. Raising his arm at me again, he spoke. "Here". Could I trust a man who looked like me? I raised my hand and grabbed it from him, it was a gun. He then proceeded to point at me again and spoke "Kill". Kill, myself? And then I realized something. He was me, a broken man exhausted from working all his life. Fingers to the bone, eyes red from countless hours of starring at the assembly lines. A man who was tired of life, tired of all the suffering and pain life put him through. He didn't live a full life, or a life at all for that matter. He spend his days making a living instead of actually living it. The gun shook in my hand as I thought about every single thing that had put me down. "Now" I screamed and pulled the trigger as hard as I could.
It took several days for anyone to notice I was gone, luckily enough I was 5 days away from my birthday. I would've been 22 today. My whole family showed up, and found me in the corner where that man stood, dead. That mans name was depression. A dark and wicked place in the mind, where no one can reside for long. I'm sorry Mom. I'm sorry Dad. I wish you didn't have to bury your own son...
