"Shit!" were the first words out of Thomas Larson's mouth that morning. The spanner (he'd constantly told himself to move it but had never come to it) had fallen onto his big toe. Searing pain rushed through it and Thomas was inclined to swear again. He held his tongue though and tried to ignore the ache in his toe.

Sitting down on the couch, he went to fetch his newspaper before remembering it wasn't there. He'd packed everything away. He sighed and leaned his head against the wall behind him. He hated the moving process. It was so exhausting and stressful and he spent half the time worrying he would forget something. His eyes drifted around the room, going over the empty and almost lonely place. The moving vans had already taken everything. He just wanted to be at the town already. But that meant unpacking. He groaned. He almost just wished to stay here, painful memories and all.

His toe still felt extremely sore. Goddamn toe. Goddamn spanner. Goddamn world. He wondered why the spanner wasn't packed. He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember a lot of things these days. He was only in his late twenties so it wasn't old age. Goddamn memory loss.

Testing to see if he could walk on it, Thomas managed to do so. He could walk, yes, but it was extremely painful. Just his luck. To have bloody spanner fall on his toe just when he was about to leave.

He picked up his car keys and headed outside. It was humid and extremely sunny... about 76 degrees Fahrenheit. Thomas hated sunny days. He preferred the cold by far, but the cold was a rare thing in Florida. He hated the way his clothes clung to his body, covered in sweat. He hated the way his hair stuck to his head as though it were trying desperately to cling onto it's last hope. He hated the wet, squelchy feeling of the sweat underneath his shirt. He hated the half-asleep feeling that came in warm places, as though the heat was sucking the liveliness out of him. And he hated the way the sun shone so brightly it hurt his eyes.

Thomas attempted to block the sun out, putting his hand to his head as though he were saluting an invisible officer. He squinted through the light, feeling the sun beat down on him as though screaming at him to go inside. He wished he could but he wasn't able. He had too much things to do. Couldn't he have one free Saturday without anything on? To simply laze around his rather expensive apartment that he rarely ever got to spend time in?

Glad that he wasn't sweating yet, Thomas opened the car door. Had he not locked it? Could someone have stolen something? He remembered something totally irrelevant. The spanner had only been there because it wasn't his. Goddamn memory. It worked too slowly. Andrea had always said he had a head like a sieve. But he wouldn't think of her now. He wouldn't think of her ever if he could.

Thomas slotted the keyhole and turned it, starting the car engine. It was a good car. A Jaguar, and a new one at that. He glanced around his car, looking for something missing but found everything to be where it should be, nothing moved or taken. He breathed a sigh of relief and put his foot on the accelerator. The car's engine revved up and he pulled out of the parking space.

Two weeks ago, he'd been happily married to an amazing woman and he was being hired often in court. He'd gotten a good reputation until that one case. Thomas' grip on the steering wheel tightened. His knuckles were white. He didn't want to think about the bloody case that had ruined everything.

He glanced out at the road. Another few dozen kilometers to go to the airport. He'd booked a plane several days ago, right after the one incident he couldn't bear to think of had happened. He'd decided he couldn't stay in a house with sore memories like his one.

It had been a warm day, just like this one, when he'd messed up so badly. Thomas couldn't remember if it had warmer or colder, but thay hardly mattered. He'd left for work, after kissing Andrea goodbye. She didn't have to work. It was a school holiday, so she got the day off. He couldn't deny his jealousy. He'd been in an awful mood when he'd arrived, probably because the traffic had been bloody awful that day. Traffic was usually terrible in Florida, but it had been manageable. That day however...

He'd arrived at work late, with nothing but the excuse of traffic (which, as every teacher or boss knows, is the shittiest excuse one could use). Naturally, Hadley (his boss, a five foot eight short-tempered man) been furious, his face flushed an angry red, his vein throbbing in his temple, steam almost coming out his ears. Thomas would've laughed if the situation hadn't been so serious. He'd received a lecture on how it was awful for his reputation if his employees came in late and if there only bloody excuse was traffic. He'd hinted (more than hinted, he'd yelled) to Thomas to get his head out of his ass and not to be late ever again.

Thomas had simply kept silent and given his boss the answers he wanted. He tried to seem as polite and mannerly as possible, and to keep a cool head, no matter how annoyed he was by his boss. He'd managed to avoid the worst of the punishment but it was mainly because a person had hired Thomas for later that morning.

He'd had to rush to court and had barely made it on time, much to his client's annoyance. His client was a plump, well-groomed and short man, who was clearly rich, obvious by the clothing and the many rings on his chubby fingers. He couldn't tell if the man was married or not but he couldn't see any reason for someone to marry him unless it was for the money. He scolded himself for being so rude, even though none of his thoughts were said aloud.

The client had been accusing a man of stealing one his precious rings (the man had so many that Thomas didn't understand why one mattered so much). The man was almost the complete opposite of his client, tall, thin and wiry, with a mop of hair and looked as though he was in his early twenties. He definitely didn't look like the type to have stolen a ring, especially since his eyes were watering and he looked absolutely terrified of the man. He looked like a guy who'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But then again, there was that saying, Never judge a book by it's cover.

The case had began and Thomas found himself disliking his client more and more. First, it was the arrogance, the demand to be respected and the superiority complex. He acted as though Thomas was just another lawyer, undeserving of a rich man's respect and he was nothing but a tool to help him win the case (which he was, but he didn't like to be treated that way). He demanded Thomas show utmost respect for a man higher up than hinself. Thomas didn't find it difficult at the start but as the case went on, it began to get more and more challenging to do so.

Soon, the smaller things, the things that shouldn't have annoyed him, began to seem irritating, as though he was determined to hate every aspect of the man. Everything from the constant sweating and the handkerchief coming out every few minutes to wipe it away to the loud and attention-seeking tone in which he spoke was agitating him. By the time Thomas was halfway through the case, the urge to leave had been almost overwhelming.

The case was almost over when the unspeakable happened. His client had been lecturing him on how terrible he was, what a pathetic excuse for a lawyer and that his reputation was entirely false. His client had no right to tell him how to do his job. He was trying his hardest, and his client was winning the case, but apparently, he still wasn't satisfied. Thomas was wishing he'd slept in and missed the case entirely.

Everything had gotten a slightly red tint, and he understood the phrase seeing red after that. His blood boiled and before he could think about what he was doing, he'd drawn his fist back and... He couldn't remember much about what'd happened (everything had seemed sort of fuzzy and dreamlike) but the next thing he knew, his client was almost as angry as his boss and clutching a bloodied handkerchief (Thomas wondered if he had an endless supply of handkerchief tucked away somewhere in one of his enormous pockets) to his nose.

Hadley had been like raging bull and his client had refused to pay Thomas. He'd stayed quiet while Hadley had repeatedly apologised and promised it would never happen again. But his client wasn't satisfied. He demanded his money back and he wanted to sue them for injuring him. Hadley wouldn't go down without a fight though and kept on pleading with him. Eventually, his client agreed that they wouldn't be sued but they would still return his money.

After the client had left, Hadley turned on Thomas and screamed at him to get out, telling him he was fired. He'd left without a word, and his entire life seemed to go downhill from there. From that point, from the moment he'd woken up that dreadful morning, his life seemed to have decided it didn't want to give him anymore rewards, and instead punish him. He'd felt as though he was asleep, as he left that day, and that he'd eventually wake up from that horrifying nightmare.

But if it was nightmare, he still hadn't woken up yet.