[Egekrusher]

Chapter 2

I got up for work that morning feeling very groggy. I couldn’t really remember what had happened the night before. I knew I had woken up and been scared by something, but I couldn’t remember what for the life of me. I went through my morning routine in a daze, which involved all the normal stuff; taking a shower, brushing my decaying teeth, running a comb through my thinning hair, putting on deodorant, and throwing on my denim jumper suit. I did all of this in about 20 minutes, as I was running late again because I had apparently failed to set my alarm clock the night before.

I walk out of the front door onto the porch and down onto the broken up sidewalk, careful not to get too close to the grass. It’s spring, and the grass is dewy because it is still very early, about 7 am. I make my way over to my car, looking it over, hoping that it had magically changed overnight into some sort of exotic sports car, such as a Lamborghini. Not happening. It’s a red Ford Pinto. The tires are nearly bald, the exhaust system is virtually non-existent, and the air conditioning doesn’t work. It takes 4 tries to get the damn thing to start up, with me swearing the entire time. “You fucking bitch!” I yelled. “Stupid fucking cocksucker!” I screamed. This was another part of my morning ritual.

The car was a hand-me-down from my father, who had passed away last year. My father was a drunken bastard who worked in a factory his entire life (when he was working that is) and loved to beat the living shit out of my mother until she died of cancer 4 years ago. Honestly, I was happy to see her go. She had gotten her chance to escape the living Hell that she had been engulfed in for the past 22 years. My father had died in an accident at work. He was working in a sawmill at the time. He had been drinking on the job, as usual. He was working very close to one of the saws, closer than he was supposed to, when his arm got caught in a conveyor belt. He died a slow, painful and gruesome death, lying on the ground bleeding profusely from what used to be his right arm. Apparently the last thing he said was “My bottle…” They found the shards of glass from his bottle inside the saw, along with the chewed up remains of his arm. His last thought in this world was about his damn bottle, which didn’t surprise me one bit.

I finally get the car started, checking the gas gauge to make sure I at least have enough to make it to work. Luckily, I do. I turn on the stereo, listening to the stupid morning show pouring out of the tinny sounding speakers, wishing I could at least afford a CD player.

I pull out of my pseudo parking spot in the street, making sure no one is coming first. I keep track the entire way to work; there are 5 people talking on cell phones, 3 people driving 10 mph over the speed limit, 1 person driving 10 mph under the speed limit, 1 person getting a blowjob, 1 woman curling her hair and 3 more people picking their nose. All in all, it’s a pretty normal day in the city of Newport, Maine. I don’t actually live in Newport; I just drive here because work is so slow in Castle Rock.
Arriving at the magnesium plant that I’ve worked at since I was 18 (I’m 22 now), I see that I’m still late, despite my best effort this morning at getting ready as quickly as possible. Granted, it’s only by 3 minutes, but in my boss’s eyes, 3 minutes may as well be a no show.

“Roberts” says my boss, Phillip Cole, a monster of a man in both size and attitude, as he waited by the door for me “I thought I told you never to be late again. What the fuck happened, you stupid twit?”

“I’m sorry Phil, I got stuck behind a jackknifed semi on my way here” I said. It was only a partial lie, as there was a jackknifed semi on one of the many back roads that I take on my way into work. I didn’t take that route this morning, however, and I had heard about it on the news on my way in. Apparently, he had heard about it as well. He eyed me over very, very carefully, trying to spot the slightest hint of a lie. He didn’t find one, and he never could with me. I had grown up lying to save my own skin from my father. I was an expert at the art of self-preservation through deceit. He stared down at me, as he was almost a full foot taller than I, and half-whispered to me “If you are ever, EVER late again, I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll be eatin’ it for breakfast, ya hear?!”

“Yes, sir” I said quietly, knowing that to stand up to this giant was a very quick way to end up in the hospital. It had happened to other men working here, and it sure as Hell wasn’t going to happen to me. He was still staring down at me, breath reeking of sour milk and what smelled like cow ass. I was thinking about how it would be funny if he had been hungry and thirsty and had decided to just eat the whole fucking cow. I almost laughed, but thought twice about it. Not a good idea. He finally backed up a bit and opened the door, still staring at me. He held it open, letting me walk in first. I knew it was going to be a fucked up day.


Nevermind, it's finished. Moving on to chapter 3.