I Have No Life

Beginning

This was the norm. Every day he would wake up, make a crummy breakfast, pack his bags, put on the wrinkly office suit that he didn't iron after receiving it, wait at the bus stop with an old woman who knits on the left side of the bench, and get to work.

He always greeted his fellow peers and his neighbours when passing by or getting a cup of water. He's a good person because he follows the rules and is loved by the community because of it. 

But is he really?

He hopes so, because without that what purpose does he have? He lives here, so being able to know everyone and having a good reputation is key to staying as long as possible.

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Today was just another day, a Monday to be exact. Mondays are the worst, and I'm definitely not a morning person. I slowly opened my eyes to the loud beeping sound coming from something called an alarm. It was very annoying. 

With a loud, dramatic sigh I reached over to turn it off, my body lazily stretching towards the stupid thing. Then without realizing it I was suddenly sprawled out on the floor, looking up at the ceiling with a dazed expression and a now broken yet still beeping alarm. Well, this was great.

After a few minutes of just laying there I slowly sat up, looking down at the floor, then my bed, then the alarm clock, blinking like a frog would to a fly. Weird comparison actually. It was...10:15 AM....that's- that's really bad. I finally stopped the noise with a gentle press of a button, making my way to the bathroom to wash up. 

Looking in the mirror I looked tired as hell, eye bags from staying up last night and my fur was all messed up..welp, gotta get ready. I brushed my teeth, took a shower, put some deodorant on and combed my fur, then quickly stumbled to put on my work clothes.

With a few trips down the steps I quickly went over to the kitchen and made me some soggy cereal. Because I waited too long, just my luck. 'Everything will be fine' I said to myself because I'm lonely living in a small townhouse. After almost getting sick after eating too fast, I quickly ran out the house to go catch the next bus.

Oh. Oh c'mon, of course I just had to leave my bag-

Okay so after that little mess up I ran right back to the bus stop where the old woman usually sat and knits her clothes, but today she wasn't there. Weird. Luckily the bus only came after about 15 minutes and I ended up arriving to work at 10:35 AM. Well, heh..that's not a flex at all-

Trying to get to work was hard, sure, but getting to your cubicle was even harder. With a smile I exited the bus and gave my thanks, then went into the tall nine story building. It's all going to be fine, all I had to do was smile and wave..right? Sounds easy enough-

No.

No it wasn't.

Talking to people was hard enough, but being late AND talking to people was just as worse. Walking through the entrance and waiting for the elevator to open was starting to stress me out. I could feel the stares from everyone here, and suddenly I could feel the sweat start to form under my shirt sleeve. I hate sweat.

As I was caught up in my own thoughts, someone poked me on the shoulder from behind and asked-

"Hey Benji, what're you doing here so late? Everything okay?"

It startled me badly, but I tried my best not to appear that way, smiling back at him awkwardly and responding back.

"Everything's great, I just had a bit of a rough morning is all. I hope your day is going well though."

I didn't say his name because I forgot it, and it'd be so awkward if I called him 'Peter' or something. I mean, what if it's 'Pete'?

Anyways, I turned back to the elevator and started waiting again. For some reason there's a crowd here and it was honestly getting annoying sitting here like this. Without realizing it I started to grip the handle of my bag tighter as I looked around, sweat gradually forming on my forehead as I saw people waiting just like me. 

But for some reason, I felt compelled to go up the stairs. I didn't know why, but if I had to guess it was probably all those other employees..

As I squeezed and slipped my way through the crowd, I managed to get to the door with the a stairs sign on it and a bold text which reads 'Stairs'. I opened the door and started climbing. As I walked up the steps I couldn't help but feel a pit in my stomach. Should I have stayed and waited for the elevator like everyone else? No one really uses the steps anyway..

I hate this feeling.

When I can't express that feeling and the stares that come along with it.

Why can't I just be normal?

A/N

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Hey everyone, I'm finally back from my long asf hiatus and am trying to consider if I should continue that one fnaf fanfic I made..but uhm, this is just the beginning and I don't know what's next. 

I hope you enjoyed this because this is a very dear oc of mine and this is just the start of his spiral :3

(Also sorry for barely any dialogue, I just wanted to write what's going through his mind for the intro)

Word count: 975