Isaac ended his night like so many before—leaving the store and heading to his local watering hole. He was well known there. Always tipped well. Rarely caused trouble.

  There had been that one New Year’s incident when he’d clocked another patron after the guy got a little too snippy and refused to leave.

  Still, even then, Isaac had been allowed back. The other man was banned for life.

  Isaac drank for a few hours while fiddling with his phone. His most recent fascination was the cryptocurrency market. He’d been attempting to day trade for the past several months.

  Unfortunately, that fascination had cost him nearly five hundred dollars.

  But he knew the opportunity was there. All he had to do was keep buying. Keep waiting.

  A few hours later, Isaac wobbled out of the bar, made his way to his pickup, and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  Again—like so many times before.

  Tonight wasn’t terrible. He’d only dropped his keys once while trying to get them into the lock.

  He didn’t even consider not driving. Calling a cab would be an inconvenience. Isaac didn’t like being inconvenienced, and he certainly wasn’t going to waste time getting a ride five minutes down the road.

  The truck sputtered before finally roaring to life, the big diesel engine clinking and clunking in the cold night air.

  He threw it into reverse, hit the gas too hard, popped over the curb, then slammed his foot down again after shifting into second. He skipped first entirely—he’d deal with the clunky shift later.

  It took no time at all to reach his apartment complex.

  He parked crooked, taking up both his own space and half of his neighbor’s. Slamming the truck into park, he pulled the keys and wandered toward the lobby.

  The front desk attendant offered a greeting. Isaac ignored it.

  It took three tries to unlock his apartment door. The alcohol hit him harder now than it had moments earlier.

  A brief flicker of shame surfaced.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have driven.

  The thought disappeared just as quickly.

  Inside, he went straight to the fridge.

  Another Jack and Coke. A bag of chips. Chinese leftovers tossed into the microwave. While it cooked, he flipped through hundreds of channels before settling—like always—on reruns of Cops.

  He sang along as he crossed the room.

  “Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do…”

  The words slurred as he grabbed the plate from the microwave.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  The plate cracked when it hit the counter. Isaac didn’t care. He grabbed an oven mitt, slid it underneath, ran his hand under cold water, then collapsed into his recliner beside his drink.

  He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep.

  He woke early with a stiff neck—another night in the chair. More and more, he cared less.

  Moving back home had been supposed to be temporary.

  Three years later, he had even less to show for it.

  Standing made his left leg seize up. He stumbled, knocking the remains of his Chinese food onto the floor. Rice, noodles, chicken—ignored as he staggered toward the bathroom.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  The next hour passed in a blur of shower steam, dry heaving, and regret. This was routine now. A process.

  Isaac didn’t consider himself an alcoholic. But after the breakup with Lois, habits had formed—quiet ones. Persistent ones.

  At 7:30, he checked his watch.

  The bus ride took twenty minutes. He could drive—but after last night, he didn’t feel like it. His head pounded as he walked down the street.

  At the bus stop, he sat inside a small windbreak booth. An elderly Black man leaned on a walker nearby, puffing on a cigar. A mother sat with her young child, trying to keep them entertained.

  Isaac reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a small metal flask.

  He took a sip.

  The woman shot him a look and tapped her wrist, displaying the time.

  Isaac ignored her.

  He boarded the bus before either of them, bumping past the old man as the driver started to speak.

  “It’s a dog-eat-dog world, baby,” Isaac muttered.

  He took the first open seat, slid on his headphones, and disappeared into a podcast about stocks and investments.

  One day, he’d quit this job. Live off his portfolio.

  He just hadn’t figured out how to make money yet.

  By the time he reached the store, the routine had settled in. He slipped into his desk, browsed the internet, waited.

  The morning crawled.

  Around noon, the afternoon shift arrived. Isaac was ready to leave for lunch when he spotted Derrick entering through the back.

  Isaac stayed seated.

  Which made it strange when Derrick walked straight toward his desk.

  “Hey, look, man, about yesterday—” Isaac started to speak as Derrick approached the desk. Better to smooth this over now and not have a few awkward hours with the guy, he thought.

  The look on Derrick’s face sent an uneasy shiver across Isaac. He’d never seen him so empty-looking, so focused, yet cold.

  He didn’t speak.

  He just stood across from Isaac.

  That blank stare filled with resentment.

  Uncomfortable wasn’t the right word. The silence went on for far too long.

  From the corner of his eye, Isaac could see Brent watching from across the room. It looked like he was just about to head out back for a smoke break when he noticed the potential confrontation.

  Why isn’t he moving toward us? He should probably break this up before I snap, Isaac let the thoughts bounce around in his head.

  He could feel his blood pressure rising. His smartwatch gave a small beep, indicating his heart rate had become elevated.

  It felt like minutes had passed between them in the mere seconds of this standoff.

  Right when Isaac felt he couldn’t take it any longer, he stood up to confront him.

  “What the fuck do you want, man? You going to say something, or keep eye-fucking me from across my desk?”

  Derrick smiled.

  Isaac felt extremely uncomfortable at the lack of reaction.

  Right before he could say another word, a loud crack rang out.

  Confusion washed over Isaac—pain was absent as he looked down at the bullet hole in his chest.

  His eyes lifted and met Derrick’s. That cold smile was now stained with the splatter of Isaac’s blood.

  The room spun violently, and Isaac felt his knees wobble as the strength he had only moments before started to dissipate.

  Vertigo plagued him as his vision faded in and out.

  Faint screams were heard in the distance.

  People running. Hiding.

  But Derrick had no intention of harming anyone else. He had just had enough of Isaac’s bullshit, and yesterday was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  What followed happened in a strange whirlwind of events, and time didn’t seem to truly exist for Isaac.

  He slammed back against the ground.

  Blackness enveloped him.

  He woke several more times, being transported in the back of an ambulance. He couldn’t make out the details, but he heard the siren blaring and could see shadows moving around him.

  He was strapped to a bed of some kind.

  Blackness.

  He woke up again momentarily to many doctors and nurses standing around his bed.

  A lot of screaming was happening as the light nearest the door flashed on and off with a faint alarm. It probably wasn’t faint—perhaps Isaac was the one who was faint now.

  Reality slowly slipped past his fingertips.

  The shadows slowly became more and more distorted until he was no longer able to make out what they were. The familiarity of the staff was lost, replaced by blobs.

  The voices that had once been sharp and urgent, calling out orders, blended together into one low, indistinct humming. Words no longer carried meaning—it was just noise, rising and falling. Isaac tried desperately to focus on one voice, any voice—one grounding anchor in this reality.

  It proved too difficult as the humming grew louder and more all-consuming.

  Pain was never registered. Just an immense amount of pressure and fatigue. The lights once burning overhead started to lose their coloring.

  Blinking didn’t help. Shapes seemed to be all that was left. A gray world.

  Each breath came with effort now, as he had to think about actively inhaling and exhaling.

  In…

  Out…

  In…

  Out…

  But the pattern was too difficult to maintain.

  The energy required was more than he had left.

  Everything felt far away now, like he wasn’t truly experiencing this anymore.

  Isaac’s memories flickered in his mind. Thousands of scenes flooded in. His first kiss. The first time driving a car. His first night in jail. Losing his virginity. The beatings his father gave him.

  Everything.

  The good.

  The bad.

  The ugly.

  He felt it all. He lived it all. He saw it all.

  One last time.

  The sales floor. The leaderboards. The recognition.

  All pointless now.

  Darkness didn’t crash over him, but instead slowly consumed him, gently closing in like a door being pulled shut.

  Isaac’s last thought hung in his mind as the darkness enveloped him.

  What a wasted life.