August 18th, 2016

A sudden bang came upon the glass.

Woof, woof!

It jumped me out of my sleep, my head hit on the roof of the car. A German Shepherd stood outside with a police officer holding it by the leash.

Woof, woof!

The bright orange, yellow hue rays of the sun made me squint. He motioned for me to open the window. I rolled my windows down as he commanded. His pale skin stood out conflicting with mine while his pointed chin and protruding belly were like a sore thumb. Behind him, one of my neighbours ran on the sidewalk. What's her name? Ms. Glenbrook's daughter, she had a friendly demeanour unlike her mother.

"Are you okay, sir?" he asked, as his eyes scanned my hand's location and the inside content of the car.

I wiped my bleary eyes. "Yes, I am fine." Giving him a cocktail of morning breath and the stench of alcohol.

"Do you live in the area and have you been drinking, sir?" he asked, catching a whiff of my brew.

"Yes, my apartment is just right over there." I pointed at the door that belonged to me. I truly wish I could say it wasn't mine.

"Okay, I am just checking as we got called about a suspicious person in the area," he said, his eyes pierced mine, making me instinctively look away.

"Ok, I understand, I am fine, officer, I will be going up to my apartment to change for work."

He seemed like he wanted to say something else, no doubt probably wanted to have me searched. Then the words came that I had just been thinking.

"Do you mind if we do a quick search of your person?" he waited for my response.

"Ah, uh ah uh ah uh," the dog panting outside the door. My heart pounded in my chest. Shit, I realized, the drug was still in my pants pocket.

I wiped my head as my eyes darted around. "Yes, I mind, I haven't done anything wrong and I live here?"

He had slightly stepped back from the car, his eyes were fixated on me. Everything seemed to crawl to a standstill. Was I acting too suspicious?

"Excuse me," I said, more like a whisper to myself. I got out of the car and bore the full wrath of the sun. My eyes never leaving the presence of the dog, hoping it would not detect it in my pocket.

"Something wrong?" the police officer asked me.

"Not the fondest of dogs," I replied.

The dog had looked at me for a long time, but remained the same. I turned now and notice his partner further down. He looked at him and nodded.

"No problem," he said to me as he scratched his neck. "Enjoy your day, sir."

Their eyes held a burning gaze on me while I crossed the road and walked my way back up to my apartment. There was thick smog in the air this morning, which made me cough as my eyes glanced over at the many apartment complexes in the area. To believe it was still this thick despite the old factories being shut down two years ago.

My neighbours were already going to their cars, no doubt heading to work. We nodded our heads at each other as I got before my apartment door. The noises from last night still haunted my mind. I rubbed my hands together, looking around at the other apartments on the same floor. I took a breath and tried to pretend what happened didn't exist. Yes, she was the perfect wife and I am happy, I am happy.

I worked it over in my mind, over and over until eventually, it was believable to me. I put the keys in the door and opened it.

The untidy living room greeted me first with a funky smell. A cluttered mess of old blue, green furniture, and the fading paint on yellow walls. I took off my shoes as my feet touched the soft out-of-place red rug passing our small outdated TV.

Mallory greeted me in the middle of the living room. Her pronounced long brown hair, moist, pink lips, birdlike whiskey eyes complemented with her thin eyebrows lay upon me. What made me fall for this milky luminescent skin, fox? She had on nothing more than a black bra and thong. She was like a chicken that had just been plucked.

Like a snake hissing sweet words, "Good morning, Hunny, why didn't you tell me you were coming home so late? I was so worried."

Our eyes caught within the middle, an exchange of our souls. Really, you just fucked my best friend.

The first words that greeted me. I smiled."I spent a lot more time at the bar, after the funeral." My mom's funeral, the funeral you didn't want to attend.

"Okay," Mallory replied, her gaze lost on me as she went to the kitchen.

The living room clock's time held 7:17 as I passed. I shifted myself to the small bathroom as I didn't have much time left to go to work. I dropped my clothes off in the basket and entered the bath. I turned on the shower as I let the cold water hit me, I mentally bared its weight.

I heard footsteps approaching the door outside, "Can I get you anything to eat?"

"No!!" I shouted without realizing that I had raised my voice.

"Okay," she said as I heard her move away from the door.

I sighed as I came out of the bath with the towel wrapped around me, I took my pants out with me as I walked to the bedroom.

The TV blared, "Here we are yet again, as you can hear from the shouts behind us the protesters that have gathered early this morning to let their voices be heard."

I had grown accustomed to this tiny space. My old flute stood catching dust on the dressing table. The medals from my school years were hung up on the shelf. Pictures of when I was in high school and the times after with Mallory covered the walls. One picture here that was hardest to look at, I turned it down and closed my eyes, as I listened to the hopeless suffering of others, which I could relate to.

"Tom, we have estimated that there are far more protesters here today than yesterday. This symbol that has become synonymous with them, a worker pounding on chains with and A in the back which we believe represents anarchy. It's on their clothes, drawn on their boards and on various places throughout the country of Pelagic."

The reporter's voice was drowned out in the chanting.

"Machines are not people."

"Food for all."

"Jobs for our people."

"We are still unsure of what this protest hopes to achieve against the richest capitalist in the country. Can anything actually be done or is it all for nothing? The United Association of Capitalist has not weighed in on the protest at this moment and we can only believe that they are taking a wait and see approach."

"The police are a tool."

"The police have gathered here again, and we even have some soldiers in front of us, urging us backward...."

The radio ended.

I dropped the pants I brought with me on the bedroom floor. Opening the closet, I took out my work clothes and lay them on the bed and wiped my face with the towel.

Shit, the drug. Cautiously, I took it out from the pocket of my pants that lay on the ground. It looked at me as I returned the stare, hesitating on what to do with it. Just in case, I rested it in my underwear drawer.

The mirror smiled at me. I looked professional and ready to work. A deafening noise came from the window. On opening it, a blackbird had crashed into the window.

That damn bird! Crossed my mind as I was about to leave the apartment, passing by Mallory, who was busy in the kitchen.

"Not having anything to eat?" Mallory asked.

"No thanks, will get something on the road," I said as I shut the door, not even awaiting her response.

I headed back in a rushed manner down the stairs to my car. My stomach growled but I didn't have the will to eat. Hopefully, I could stop somewhere later on.

Now seated in the vehicle I turned on the engine, the radio played on its own.

The Man Who Sold the World.

***

Here was the place I dreaded the most, Corporate society. My car Betty was parked in the spacious car park facing this tower of a building. The golden sceptre displayed elegantly upon it. The bright blue sky hid the vicious nature of these walls. On the outside of the media they portrayed it with such good light: Where you needed to be, opportunities, success. It was slavery in a new form. We were all drones here. Merely playing our minor part until our batteries no longer had any juice left, then we would be discarded with the rest. It was an achievement that I had been here so long, but what was there really to show for any of it? I gripped my fist tightly. So many bills that I don't know how to pay, mother's funeral now included. More work than a man can handle and pay that could barely sustain a child.

The flag of our country hung outside mockingly, a black swallow near the end of the flag coloured in yellow with white stripes. Nationalist pride, what a joke, as what stood next to it showed who was really in control. A golden lion head stood like a predator in the centre looking down on those who passed, above it was three golden stars and the flag itself was coloured in purple.

I walked towards the building, taking the first few steps. Cigarette smoke engulfed me, the early grind to get through the day. It wasn't too long before people flooded around me going back and forth, all dressed identically, in black and white.

I took the elevator, it was packed, and it made me feel uneasy. I clicked the number at the side, eight. I closed my eyes, taking in the grunts, coughs, and silence until it came to my stop.

Soon as I stepped out...

"Domenic your report was due yesterday, you think you get paid to fuck around!?" He passed me as he headed to his own desk.

This lanky, dry lip, salt, and black pepper hair motherfucker. My lip closed as I clenched my left fist. The tag on his chest indicated manager.

"Yes, Sir, my apologies," I said and paused, biting my lip. "I will have it right on your desk before the day is done." I saw the faces of many of my co-workers looking directly at me, no doubt under the pressure of Mr. Vanderbooks.

He merely grunted in response before giving me a slight smirk. "You know the 19th is coming up and every month you seem to be a lucky bastard. I wonder how long that luck can last."

I merely ignored him, as I took my seat in my small  cubicle that protected me from nothing in this world. An unfinished copy of Into The Wild Dark resided on my desk. If only I had a guardian angel. Unfortunately, the stacks of unfinished paperwork drowned out that notion. I cracked my knuckles as I turned on the PC staring at me.

Taking one last glance at the table that was opposite mine, it was completely cleared out. To work, I guess.

If only life would be easy. Feeling my phone ringing, I looked around before ducking slightly by the table.

"Hello," I said.

"Is this Mr. Foster?"

"Yes."

"This is Mr Damien Jones, from the Waterloo Bank, I am calling in connection with your outstanding loan."

I closed my eyes and my ears seemed to die as he muttered all the words to me that I just didn't want to hear. I knew I was running out of time before the walls finally closed in.

Three days.

***

It was a long day before I found myself back at the bar again, having only the money that I had last night. I parked in my usual location, a short distance away from the bar as I walked to the door. A call came through.

Glancing at the number, my head started to hurt, my eyes felt like they were bulging out.

It was Andrew.

I ignored the call as I pushed the door to the bar open. Fate, however, has been always cruel to me, and there, seated by the bar in my favourite seat, was Andrew; my best friend. The bar was swamped by many, but there was an obvious line of sight between us both.

We stared at each other, a Mexican standoff.

The jukebox blared in the background followed by the shouts, clashing of beers, and pool balls entering their sockets.

He made the first move, waving his hand to me. The vein on my head bulged, I gripped my fist. I took my first step onto the rugged floor as someone bumped me from behind. My entire body turned to face this unknown threat.

"Domenic?" the voice called out to me, on turning I saw my aunt Kim.

Despite, her youthful clothes that exposed her toned legs and flat stomach. Strands of grey protruded from the front portion of her black pinned up hair almost in a taunting manner. Freckles covered the witch's entire face. She frowned as she adjusted her glasses.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"What do you think? I am here to get a drink, come."

It was too late before I realized that she had dragged me unconsciously to him, Andrew. We were all seated at the bar. I sat in the middle of the two. Strangely, everything looked different from last night; the colours of the bar had changed. Gone was the red and green atmosphere, it was replaced with brown and yellow, as I remembered it was strange, now that I noticed it. The bartenders were the ones I was familiar with, she was also here.

"It's been a while, bud," Andrew said, with a smile on his face. "Do you want to go to the annual fishing contest next week? We can even participate this year together instead of watching, it would help get your mind of everything that you have been through. I promise to take it easy this time."

He carried that same air of arrogance that he always had when we were in school. He was a far more attractive man than me. He had blond hair, blue eyes, well-built body, chiselled face with smooth skin, and a managerial job.

One might not think that way with his current look, regular white T-shirt, and navy-blue jeans. His tattoo on his arm was exposed, on his left arm was a black wolf.

My eyes focused upon the bar.

"Yeah, it's been a while, no thanks, I have other things to do."

Silver spoon motherfucker.

"Oh, it's no problem there is always next year. Three martinis, no two martinis, and one Bacardi and coke," Andrew motioned to the bartender before turning to me. "How was your mom's funeral yesterday?"

I don't need your pity.

A slam on the counter came from the direction of Kim. "You shouldn't mention that spineless woman's name here."

Andrew rubbed his chin. "I don't understand, what do you mean Kim?"

I drowned out the noise. As the drinks were brought before us, my favourite bartender smiled at me. I still didn't know her name.

She had saccharine lips that could melt a man, an elegant walk that defied logic and a bubbly personality to match. Her mercury red hair, although in one, only defined her further. That sculpted face, a straight nose with delicate light skin, would make an artist weep. Those bright onyx eyes with straight eyebrows, held my soul at its mercy.

My eyes fell on her black polo shirt uniform and black jeans pants. She fitted them well.

"Didn't the bar get a makeover yesterday?" I asked. "It looked so different".

"The bar is the same as it was yesterday," she replied.

"Really?"

Before she responded, however, she got distracted with someone else who wanted a drink.

Sipping my Bacardi, they spoke in depth about my mum as I sat there saying nothing in return. Caught between the eye of the storm, I gripped my glass even tighter.

"I didn't know she was that kind of woman."

I heard Kim's glass thud against the bar before she spoke."Yeah, she was selfish and only about herself."

"Oh."

In the corner of my eyes, I saw her hands waving to the bar as her chair screeched. "That bitch got what she deserved."

My glass came slamming down on the counter. "Shut up, what the fuck do you know about my mother!!"

I stumbled up as there was silence between the two.

"It seems the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"You weren't there for her when she needed you and you weren't there when she was gone. It is one thing to speak about me, but it's another to speak about her." I can't believe you are my aunt.

"You don't know a thing about her, only what she pretended to be to you."

I got up, making my way to leave.

"I know everything about her, she was my sister, since you were the only child Esmeralda had, obviously you would be this stupid."

"Wait Domeni---" Andrew called.

But I was already gone out of the bar, pushing pass the people in my way. The glare in my eyes alone told them what would happen if they got in my way.

"Fuck," I screamed as I rushed to my car.

Slamming the door as I got in, it thundered its reply as I placed the key into Betty and drove home.

The only thought on my mind now, the 19th, is tomorrow.