Dreaming, in stationary, without reminiscent. Involuntary actions taken by the left hemisphere of the brain, as my thoughts collect.
"Run. Run! They're coming!" the voice of familiarity screams at me as she becomes a farther and farther object.
Now her silhouette stands in a shadow, with her dress, the cobblestone streets covered in filth and blood. I walk, alone, stumbling, hungry before falling over, but now awaken. The sunlight hitting my face as I cover them. The blankets restraining me like a protective shield against the imagination of the night. A few moments elapse before I get up, a Wednesday morning. The mirror stalks me as I walk past it, into the bathroom.
With simple autopilot controlling me in these first few awoken hours, routine is not mundane, it is a necessity. It is a need for surviving the coming hours of this wretched day, a day job. As I walk across my living quarters, with brown wooden plank walls surrounding me, encasing me. I grab my television remote controller, pushing the on/off button and change the channel to the morning news. .
"It's a sunny day here in [REDACTED]. With scattered clouds coming in, light humidity as will due to the rain accompanying as well, right Chuck?" The news anchor chuckles, I listening in the bathroom with my pre-planned attire.
A truly pertinent individual such as myself has to adapt, such as a ruler or an organism, without adaptation the organism fails in natural selection. I put on a white tank top, applying deodorant underneath my hairy armpits. Secondly, I check the time on the television and begin the task of shaving. Traditionally you would buy a razor kit fron Amazon, but I prefer simple. A smooth shave with razor shave from the 1940's and shaving cream, accompanied with aftershave. The burning sensation of germs being slaughtered satiates my need for cleanliness. Mother, she always said I was "disgusting", "weird", so did my siblings. I moved out awhile ago, now...I continue my routine without constant bickering.
After wiping the excess aftershave with my blue towel, I throw it in the laundry. Time ticks as I sit on the foot of my bed, still messy and slip into my slick, dark ocean blue suit pants slack. I make my bed, a simple four folds, even sides with a ending lay at the foot of my bed. The sound of the plastic covering quinching and qelching under my weight was the slightest annoyance. After making my bed, I fluff the pillow, tossing them on such side of the head board. My sheets of the bed, tucked into middle, tightly wedged in between the two mattresses.
"In recent news, police discover the body of missing person, [REDACTED]. Found in-" my mind disregards the rest, looping the first sentence, a small grin appears on my face.
I apply body lotion on my upper body, then squeeze a good amount on my lower body. The hair on my legs straighten out as I apply it, as though they enjoy being moisturized. Slipping back into my pants, I measure my leather belt, a brown belt with ten holes pinned into it. I strap it on, holstering it in their respective loops. Next, my white collared button down shirt, slowly buttoning it as I stare at myself, then at the two bottle of medicine escaping the corner of my eye. Suddenly, my fingers begin to tremble as memories begin to flutter my mind. The thought of the past, it can be so...complicated.
As time reaches near, I stifle my tears and compose myself. Placing my hand on the tye, wrapping it around my neck tightly, until I step trying to breathe, stopping myself at the last minute. The tears in my eyes well up as that familiar feeling comes back up to the surface. After tying my tie, I feel it coming. Stopping what I am doing, I sit on my bed, letting the tears flow down my face.
"Fuck! Just leave! Leave! I want to be alone-" my voice trails off
ONE HOUR LATER
I am on the bus, listening to music. On my way to my day job, most people work because they have to, for family, for money, sometimes to just escape. Me? I work because I want to make the world a better place even if I- *crackles in electricity*
I walk toward the doors open, pushing them open as I pull my badge out of my satchel bag. Waiting at the security gate, cautiously clipping it onto my shirt, anxiously waiting to be screened. I watch their moments, their ex-military posture, the gruntle in their voice and the body physical of strength. Taking out my earbuds as I reach the screening process. I spread my legs and arms as the guard and I exchange looks, him waving his metal wand over my body. My small satchel bag grabbed by the personal and put into the metal box, sliding on a conveyor belt as I gestured to walk. A small frown of nervousness leaves my face as I wait for the bag to leave its check. I quickly grab it, scan my badge before I hurriedly walk to the open elevator.
A sigh of relief exhausts as I am alone or am I?
"You're going to get caught. Being careful has its disadvantages. Its one thing the police should know, they cannot keep up with us." My inner monologue voice says.
I nod my head no, looking up from the ground with a focused face.
*ding* "Elevator stopping, level four." the sound of the elevator announcer as it stops suddenly. The doors open, my face in my book, half-reading and half-eavesdropping as my coworker takes a glance at me.
"You hear about the missing guy?" They say.
I don't perk my head up, still reading
"Hey, Henry. Earth to Henry." They say, snapping their fingers before I perk my head up
"Huh? What?" I say, looking up from my book.
I place a folded paper on the page I was previously reading, closing it and placing it in my satchel bag. I look up and acknowledge them. Forgetting I had made a few "friends" at this day job. I quick smile turns blank.
"They found that missing guy. Found the poor guy in [REDACTED]. Crazy, some are saying it's a murder kidnapping." They say.
This friend, they were not like others. They were straight, engaged to their fiance, living together. I was invited to their gathering last month, just to say I was there. Their life, normal to say the least. But nonetheless, shown my kindness and aided me in building a reputation.
"Geez. Really?" I respond, sarcastically.
They go on and on before they hold their arm out, stopping me just as our boss came walking toward us. I was out of autopilot, the words didn't come to mind. I was unsure of what they might ask of me. I tensed up before I realised who I was talking to, Matthew...
"Did you finish the presentation to the board about your energy motor thing?" The boss asks us.
The boss wore a black dress, with red lipstick on his wrinkled lips. Her face was powdered and white. She spoke with the elegance of a New Yorker but stern of a chief of police. Matthew buts in and says,
"He has the presentation ready and will present it to the board. Won't you, Henry?" He then looks at me as I nod a yes, my face unsure
The boss walks past us and into her office before slamming the door. Just as she slams the door, Matthew lightly punches me in the arm,
"C'mon, you off your game? You're usually on top of this! Did you get enough sleep?" He asks as we walk into our separate stations.
Matthew was always a kind person, but never knew me. Clearing my throat, I responded,
"Just didn't sleep well, that's all." I say, the final sentence to utter before I walk adjacent to the cubicles into a giant office.
Organizing my notes and reading them in my head, I look at the stack of different folders. One folder for each board member, hopefully they agree to pour more funding into this. As I am organizing my board, the boss quickly walks in, closing the door.
"Okay, small hiccup. A foreign investor is coming as well." She says, her hands close to my chest as reassurance, but I read the room.
"And? I don't see a issue with that-" the boss cuts me off
"He doesn't speak English well and his language interpreter isn't on schedule. Look, we really really need this funding, but if he don't reel in this investor, then the board members won't follow." She says frantically before opening the door and composing herself, greeting the board members including the investor.
They seat themselves, with the lead gesturing me to begin. Looking around the room before I say,
"Es tut mir leid! Hallo, wie gehts?"
The room looks puzzled, before the investor opens themselves.
"Ich bin sehr gut. Danke." He responds in German.
"Today, we will be the future. Applying nearly limitless generation of electrical energy on a large scale-"
*Two hours later*
My throat is dry, unable to utter another word. Finally having made the presentation, the board members and investor seems pleased with me. I look outside the glass window and see Matthew giving me a thumbs up, with a face of genuine joy. I walk out of the office, closing the door behind me before Matthew walks up to me and says
"The face the boss lady has is ecstatic. I think you have it in the bag." He says before hurrying back to his cubicle.
I walk back to my office cubicle, seeing my presentation folder with sticky notes. Putting it aside, I look around, every glued to their computers, their phonecalls with clients. Inputting my username and password, I begin to start working. My task for the entire week, finish the portfolio of the estimated timeline of the last project. On my desk, I only have a grated fence of a cup with pencils inside, a stapler as well as a picture of my now deceased cat. Another coworker starts yelling in Spanish, my ear buzzes with intrigue as I can understand most of what he is speaking. Typical family troubles. I check the time before it happens.
"Turn that up." Another coworker says,
"A video was leaked to the press, we urge you to turn to another channel as this is disturbing and gruesome.
The video of me, the interrogation. The sounds of blood curdling screams with the text-to-speech element. Only for it to be cut by a interview with the detective.
"This has been the fifth murder of a convicted felon. Is there anything we should know?" The reporter asks
"All we know is that this criminal, believes that they are judge, jury and executioner. They were smart enough to leave no trace but trust me, they will make a mistake." The detective says as it cuts back to the news anchor.
Just then the video spreads throughout all social platforms, naming the video, "The Phantom." People's faces turn from joy to pure disgust and shock as they find out the felon had more filth underneath. The violent ending of the victim. I take a notepad out of my satchel, placing a note on my desk and walk away from it into the bathroom. While walking, I cross a name off of a list. Folding the piece of paper and shoving it down into my side pocket, a mistake for later. I rush into the bathroom, clearing myself before I take a few deep breathes and pace around the bathroom.
"I need to calm down. This is only the fifth time, side effects should be less severe unless I need...more exposure." I say in my inner monologue before I wash my hands.
My mind is racing, yet my face is calm like the ocean waves. Looking into my own eyes before I apply soap to them and begin to scrub the "filth" away.