When I turned sixteen my parents urged me to get a job. Ultimately, I wasn't up for it, but I later decided that I wanted my own money because I kept borrowing some from my family. I went about it very lazily. Near the end of June, I was offered a job to work for my neighbours. Only 10 hours a week, doing shifts of 2, 4 and 4 hours on Thursdays, Saturdays and Mondays. My boss told me he would pay me 50 cents above minimum wage. For my first job, this isn't bad at all, or so I thought. It's incredibly exhausting, but for 125$ a week, it is worth it, to me at least.
Most of my work consists of removing weeds from pavements. He owns a bunch of houses and rents them to people. Thats how he makes some of his money, but he also has a construction company. So people pay him to live there and he pays me to do the maintenance. Its not all that fun because I work in the sun all day.
I woke up at 8 today because I had to clock in at 9. I snoozed my alarm til 8:30 and then got up, drank a glass of milk and ate a chocolate muffin. I packed my bag and went by bike. At 9 am, I started working on someone's pavement. Two hours later, I went on break. A few dark clouds showed up and I could hear thunder from afar. 1, 2, 3 drops of water fell from the sky. 4, 5, 6, 7 more. I went back to work. Then, the rain started getting heavier... and heavier... and heavier. Thunder and lightning left and right. I found shelter in the basement where my boss keeps all of his tools. The place had a bathroom and a hallway with doors labeled from 1 to 15. Each door had a lock on it.
Bored and without any reception, I got a little too curious. I wanted to know what was behind one of those doors. I knocked, no one answered. Silence. I knocked again, my heart began racing. My curiosity was at its peak, but I was scared. I knocked once more. Grunting could be heard. I froze. My heart skipped a few beats. From which door? Door 1? 2? 3? 4? 14? I knocked again, nothing. Was it all in my head? Was it a product of my imagination? I peaked through the cracks, one after another. Then door 12 came about. I saw a man, hanging. Not from his neck, from his feet. His neck was cut open, blood flowing out, creating a puddle underneath him. I took a step back, I couldn't move at all. I was in disbelief. I wasn't sure what to do. Call the cops? No reception. Help the man? The door was locked. I had to go get some help...
I ran to the exit, turned the handle and bumped into my boss. I fell backwards and onto my arse. He was standing right outside the door, I looked up at him. He didn't say a word, he was soaked. I stuttered, "I-I-I need you t-to help me. There's a m-m-man behind d-door 12. He's bleeding. He needs medical attention." I got up and ran to door 12, peaking through the crack. "Come see, there's a man, he's hanging—" I felt a hand on my right shoulder. I then realized...
... something's
.. not
. right.
In the blink of an eye, in the core of a second, in the time span of a heart beat, I pushed my boss backwards. He hit his head on the wall and collapsed. But it wasn't over. He slowly started to get back up. I ran to the exit once again, turned the handle— it was locked. He had locked it. I had nowhere else to run. I turned the lights off and hid in a corner.
Step... step... step... grunt... step.
He got closer.. closer... and then farther, and then close again. I held my breath for what felt like an eternity. Silence. He stopped, and waited. He waited for me to make a sound. Nothing... silence. "Alex?" I shivered. "What's wrong?" I couldn't see him in the dark, but he was smirking, I was sure of it.
Nothing happened for a while, and then... my stomach growled. Shit! He laughed. Step, step step. I'm fucked! A knife appeared out of the dark, heading towards my neck. I luckily dodged it. My eyes went from his knife to his stare. He was out of his mind, a psychopath! He swung at me again, this time cutting the edge of my left eye. I yelled in excruciating pain. I grabbed the handle of his knife and redirected the blade towards his heart.
Clear entry. He stopped moving and collapsed in an instant. As I reached for the lights, a hand grabbed my leg. He sliced open both of my ankles. I fell on my knees and looked back at him. He smirked. I grabbed his knife and stabbed him. Once, twice, and then about a hundred times. "Fuck you! Fuck off! Die! Die! Die you fucking bastard!" I shouted.
I tried to get up but I couldn't. The pain was greater than my will. Tears ran down my cheeks. Why? My eye hurt like hell, my ankles were cut open, I was exhausted. The sun finally came out and a sum of light from under the door illuminated the room. I crawled to the exit but my vision was getting blurry. I had no energy to keep going. Everything started to fade. Right before passing out, I looked back at my boss on the floor with about a hundred stab wounds in his body. He was staring back at me.
