A day in the life

Chapter One
The Routine

Throbbing. The familiar pain is a pounding nail in my head. The repercussion of another night of drinking. Slowly, my eyes creep open to greet the morning light shining through my window. That fucking light, the same as every morning. I only wish I could crush the source in my fist like a delicate flower crushed by an angry child's foot. The light signifies the beginning of a new day, a day I wish would never come. The empty feeling inside is still there. It always is. The only thing I have felt in a very long time is the feeling of nails in my cranium and the feeling of emptiness in side. Now, I don't mean to be melodramatic, but you must understand how hard it is to meet the light and force your way out of bed when every day truly feels like a curse, empty, hollow, and meaningless. This is the point of my life I am at. Alone, empty, and living a monotonous life that an automaton would be able to fill and no one would notice the difference. What I am saying is I really felt nothing towards every day.
I finally swallow the saliva that has filled my mouth during my internal monologue, and I force myself out of bed. Get out of bed. Grab uniform. Go to work. The same routine as every other day. I grab my uniform and throw it on. The texture is familiar, and unwelcome. Unplug my phone from the wall and check it, and to my surprise for once I have a message. Oh. It's my mother. It's not even worth reading. The dumb bitch has never understood me. Her and my father always fought. And I was her precious little baby, always pushing her fucking problems onto me and crying to me every time he shouted at her, but at the same time when I have a problem she tells me it's fake and I don't have a problem. Fucking cunt. Forgive me for being hurt. I grab my keys, and stumble out of the door to my apartment, straight into the light of the unwelcome sunlight.
Work. Always the same. Help the customer, get bitched at by the boss for not being productive enough, and when it's not busy try to look occupied. It's really a simple job. No different than any other day. I'm sorry that this story isn't interesting, but really you must understand that this life isn't the life I want to live. But it's what I am. The only thing I am good enough to do. I stand at my station. Occasionally helping a customer who comes to me and ask for help. I direct them. This ticks on for the hours, until my shift is done. Finally, my second favorite time of the day is here. And I leave to head to heaven.
Tom's. The local dive bar. One of the few things that make me happy. The smell, the sticky floors, the crowd, and most importantly, the alcohol. I am currently sitting at the bar, and ordering my third Guinness of the night. Suddenly, a loud voice pierces my ears. "Hey! Oh my god! I can't believe it's you! I haven't seen you in what, 3? 4 years? How have you been?!" Ah. It's Eva. An old girlfriend from high school. I really haven't seen her in years. Not since she left me for school. The last time we talked was when I confessed my love to here and she never talked to me since. "Oh! Eva! Good to see you! What have you been doing?". "I just completed my degree and got offered a job at an engineering company! This is my boyfriend Jake". Ah fuck. Not only do I get to see the girl who broke my heart, I get to meet her current toy. "Good to meet you Jake". "Why don't you spend the night with us"? And that's how I got sucked into spending the night with them.

Chapter Two
The Ex and the Distraction

We take the booth. They continue to tell me of their hopes and dreams and how they are engaged. The conversations are uninteresting but manage to pull a few stitches on my heart that were used to fix myself. A few rounds of beer and I'm getting a bit if a buzz. The pain inside has almost faded. God. She is so beautiful. Blonde, blue eyed, large breast. Most men's perfect woman. And here she is. The bird that escaped me, the one that got away. Standing here with someone who is twice the man of me. Stronger and probably a hell of a lot smarter than a pathetic creature like me.
The night drags on. With all of us getting drunker and drunker. They start to touch, and flirt, and love. And if fucking hate it. Why can't I have that? Am I not worthy to feel good about myself? They tickle, and they kiss each other. Fuck them.
Suddenly, Mr. Perfect turns to me, "Hey.. Uh.... You want to have some fun?". Aw fuck. What does this loser have on his mind? "Sure". I have no idea what I've signed up for, and the heavy feeling still sits heavy on my heart seeing the old love of my life. "Come with me". I agree. He leads me to the dirty bathroom. Once in the bathroom, he reveals his surprise. A small baggie. A bag with odd little pills in it. Wordlessly, he crushes them up and snorts a line of them. He crushes them again, delicately, carefully, and then shrugs me over to him.
Flying. The only way to express the magic feeling that I am having. "Got any of these I can buy off you"? He did. Maybe, just maybe, these pills are the solution to my problem. Maybe they are what will make me happy. The tingling fills my body, and is the first time in a long time I remember feeling good. Maybe happiness is just a few crushed pills and a few drinks away for everyone. I spend the rest of the night with them. Laughing and joking. Almost like we were friends.
And with that, the night ends. There is more, but my poor brain can't remember any more of it. I awake the next morning to the same terrible fucking light. Maybe... Just maybe... If I take a few more of those happy pills this won't feel as bad. Anything to escape the pain of everyday life.

Chapter 3
Confusing Happiness
         
The flying feeling sticks with me the entire day. I go through the whole day without getting angry, able to deal with everything the boss throws at me. No customer or person or task can ruin this flying feeling. And when the day finally starts coming to an end, I feel nothing. I carry on like I always do. Off to Tom's.
This was an interesting night at Tom's. I felt good for once. I drank a few beers, had a few more "happy pills" and actually was able to work up the courage to talk to a cute brunette girl. I buy her a few drinks, we talk, and we laugh. She was a wonderful girl. Stephanie... She was something else.
We have been dating for weeks. Sex and cuddling, movies, for once I felt motivated. She was bright and funny and cheery and made me feel alive. Well, her and my "happy pills". Things finally seem to be looking up for me. I have something to live for. When I work, I look forward to meeting her and seeing her smile. She gives me purpose.

Chapter 4
Happily Ever After

         I open my eyes. Last night was another incredible night. Still loving it. I go about my morning routine. Get ready for my shitty job and take my meds, but today when I check my phone I have a message from her, Stephanie, my light of my life.
Hey... I just wanted to let you know I think we should stop seeing each other. The way you talk to me. The way you talk about yourself. You have problems. And I cant deal with you. I hope you fix up yourself. I want you to be happy but you have some serious problems.
Aw fuck. I respond:
Please... Don't leave me.. I have nothing without you
Her:
Weve dated for 3 weeks and now im your whole world? I cant deal with this. Youre fucked in the head and im done. Im sorry.
And that was that. I was alone again. I take double my happy meds and drive to work.
         Work today was a mess. I fucked up a bunch. I snapped at customers. Honesty, today was not my best work. I was truly a mess. Rachel calls my name. "Rachel! How can I help you?". "I can't deal with you anymore. You're a mess. You come to work high and hungover every day and today, you decide to start being a dick to the customers. No more. You're done here. Pack your bags and leave". Fuck.
         I left. Straight to Tom's. I order whiskey, and another, and top in off with another beer. I go to the bathroom and snort a few more pills and return to drink more beers. Hours and beers fly by. When a muscle head and his friend come in and start being loud and obnoxious. "Ah, can you faggots shut the fuck up and let a man drink". Aw fuck. Wrong thing to say. "What the fuck was that? You cant talk to me like that". More words were exchanged. I clearly swore at the wrong person. He punches me in the face and I collapse. My head smashes the bar on my way down. "Fuck this!" I say. And I run out the bar to my car. I get in.
         And I drive. Im going to escape. Im done with this. All of it. Or atleast that's what I tell myself before I smash into that minivan on the highway. The crash collapses my car. Pain is everywhere, and I can feel blood rushing from my chest. Im free. Im done. No more of this everyday life.