8:15 A.M.

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by DarknessLiterate

by DarknessLiterate

My apartment is freezing cold. I don't remember ever coming home, but seeing as I just woke up on the couch, I must have been pretty tired.

I look at my watch. I'm late for work and I haven't even left yet. I jump up and scramble around the house for everything I need before I go. I'm nowhere near awake yet, but I'll have to deal until I get home.

30 Minutes Later...

My boss is having a fit. This is the third time I've been late this month. He threatens to fire me. I tell him I got in late, slept through my alarm, all the usual excuses. I finally get him off my back.

Everyone around me is caught up in their work. Or at least they appear to be, in hopes it'll make the situation with my boss in front of everyone feel less awkward. It should go without saying that their efforts are useless. No one says a word for several minutes.

The people having us paint and furnish their house said they wanted the walls red. The color doesn't really strike me as anything close to appealing, but to each their own. At least I'm getting paid for it. I pick up my tools and set to work. We go from room to room painting each wall. The house is massive, it takes all day to get it done.

Several hours later...

The house is nearly finished. Everyone that showed up early clocks out, leaving me and my coworker Jeremy to paint the rest.

I look over at Jeremy. He's standing on top of a flimsy footstool. It wouldn't take much for him to topple to the floor. With the hardwood floors underneath him, the impact would probably take the wind out of him. He's constantly looking down, trying to keep himself balanced. He's definitely worried about tumbling off. I start to smell something metallic in the air.

I look around the room. There's a small razor in the corner for cutting insulation that we haven't used in a long time. It's been sitting there rusting for quite a while. I look back over at Jeremy. My heart starts pounding. I start feeling frantic. My head starts spinning. What is this? What am I feeling? I look all around me. Something is pushing me, urging me. Something is insi-