Just Another Shitty Day
Dark clouds covered the sky, hanging low over the world below. Thunder rumbled overhead as flashes of lightning lit up the darkness.
Inside a small, messy bedroom, a man tossed and turned in his sleep. His eyelids twitched as he struggled through an uncomfortable dream.
Suddenly, his alarm clock blared at maximum volume.
"FUCK!"
Hayden Droven rolled straight out of bed, taking his duvet with him. He hit the floor with a thud, landing in a tangled mess of blankets.
"WHO THE FUCK SET MY ALARM?! I'LL PUNCH THEM STRAIGHT IN THE FACE!"
He struggled to free himself from the duvet before finally managing to sit up. His eyes drifted towards the alarm clock on his bedside desk.
4:14 AM.
Hayden stared at it, hoping the numbers would somehow change.
They didn't.
"My shift doesn't start until six."
He sighed bitterly and rubbed his face.
"Two hours of sleep wasted. Brilliant."
Using the bed for support, Hayden pulled himself upright and reached over to switch on the lamp beside him.
The dim light revealed the state of his bedroom.
Papers covered the floor, along with random bits of junk, dirty clothes and things he couldn't even remember buying. His desk was barely visible beneath the mess.
Hayden looked around for a moment.
"I really need to clean this place."
He paused.
"Maybe tomorrow."
As he shuffled towards the bedroom door, he noticed a piece of paper lying near his foot. He bent down and picked it up, unfolding it to read the contents.
Dear Mr Hayden Droven,
We regret to inform you that this is your second formal warning in the workplace. You are required to attend a disciplinary meeting today at 6:30 AM at...
Hayden stopped reading.
"Oh, fuck off."
He crumpled the paper in his fist.
"Second warning? Are you fucking serious? It wasn't even my fault!"
His face twisted with anger as he stared at the letter.
"Stupid idiots. As if I care about your warning. It was my coworker's fault in the first place. Why the hell am I the one getting blamed for it?"
He tore the letter into pieces and threw them towards the corner of the room.
"Yeah, that'll show them."
The pieces landed on the floor amongst the rest of his rubbish.
Hayden stared at them for a moment before remembering something.
He still had to attend the meeting.
"Shit."
With another miserable sigh, he left his bedroom and walked down the hallway towards the bathroom.
He reached the door and flicked the light switch.
CRACK!
The bulb exploded without warning.
Hayden flinched as tiny pieces of glass scattered across the bathroom floor. The room went dark, leaving him standing in the doorway with his hand still resting against the switch.
For a few seconds, he said nothing.
Then he slowly lowered his hand.
"...You've got to be fucking kidding me."
The faint light from the hallway spilled into the bathroom, illuminating the mirror above the sink.
A crack ran across the glass, with a shard embedded near the centre. The broken mirror reflected Hayden's face in several uneven pieces.
His charcoal-coloured hair stuck out in every direction, and the dark bags beneath his blue eyes made him look like a raccoon that hadn't slept in a week.
Honestly, he looked closer to sixty than whatever age he actually was.
Hayden stared at his reflection.
"What else can go wrong today?"
He rubbed his eyes and let out an annoyed groan.
"You know what? Fuck this."
He grabbed the bar of soap beside the sink and hurled it at the mirror.
The soap struck the glass, bounced straight back and smacked him directly in the eye.
"FUCK!"
Hayden stumbled backwards, clutching his face.
"WHY THE FUCK DID I DO THAT?!"
He rubbed his injured eye, hopping around and cursing under his breath.
"Ow, ow, ow! Fucking hell!"
After a few moments, the pain began to fade. He slowly lowered his hand and looked back into the mirror.
Then he froze.
Someone was standing behind him.
Hayden blinked, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him.
The figure remained there in the reflection.
It was a man wearing a strange blood-red mask. The mask covered his face completely, its shape resembling something Hayden had seen in a horror film.
Hayden's stomach dropped.
{What the fuck is that?}
He spun around.
"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!"
Before he could say anything else, something sharp plunged into his stomach.
Hayden's eyes widened.
He looked down.
A hand was gripping the handle of a butter knife buried in his abdomen.
For a moment, he couldn't understand what he was seeing.
Then the pain hit him.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!"
He staggered backwards, his hands trembling as he grabbed at the knife. His knees buckled, and he dropped onto them, struggling to keep himself upright.
The masked man said nothing.
Hayden stared at him in disbelief.
"Why...?"
His voice came out weak and shaky.
"Why the fuck would you do that?"
The killer didn't answer.
Hayden tried to move away, but his legs refused to cooperate. He clutched the knife embedded in his stomach, barely able to think through the pain.
{No. No, this can't be happening.}
He was supposed to go to work.
He was supposed to attend a stupid disciplinary meeting.
He was supposed to spend another miserable day complaining about his life.
He wasn't supposed to die in his own bathroom.
"Help..."
The word barely escaped his mouth.
The masked man stepped forward.
Hayden looked up just in time to see a steel-toed boot swinging towards his face.
THUD!
The impact sent him crashing onto the floor.
His vision blurred, and he could barely make out the faint light coming from the hallway. He tried to lift his head, but his body wouldn't respond.
He could feel himself slipping away.
{I don't want to die.}
For the first time that morning, Hayden had nothing to complain about.
He just wanted to live.
The killer raised his boot again.
Then everything went black.
Hayden Droven's life came to an end on what had started as a particularly shitty morning.
Or so he thought.