Brick

By
The morning light filtered through the window shades, displaying shadows of a solid quality, in turn making the room to appear darker and earlier then what the clock indicated. I gazed around in a partially awake state, the aftereffects of my dream lingering into reality. It still looked as if it was quite early, so I closed my eyes without looking at the clock radio and let sleep take me. It was a dreamless, calm rest - the kind that most effectively lets you regain energy. There were no image or sounds, just an enveloping sense of quietness. At a quarter past nine I awakened and quickly realized that my assumption of it still be morning earlier had been false. Quickly and effectively I got dressed, ate some cereal and drove to the building. The building where my fate would be decided, my life, something that has seemingly always been dictated by myself. Soon in a sudden instant would it be controlled by the man of whom instigated the down spiral of my entire family, who took away their lives. Not in the sense of ceased breath, but in the much more dramatic fashion of taking away their reputations. Reputations that had been built in the manner of hard work and the impossible decision of letting work trump family. It was infuriating to have no power in this situation - something that has given me comfort in all aspects of my life. To be completely helpless was evidence of failure. And failure was something my father truly had contempt for, something that had maddened him to the extent of taking his own life. I only hoped this would not become my future. He had failed and then quit. I had failed but inside of me burned a passion for greatness, and only in failure could I succeed. This man would only be defeated in an unrelenting fight, he would not become the symbol of my failure. I would take away his life in all ways except killing him.



The building came into view, its crumbling brick only furthered to collapse by the vines that strangled it. There was a single car that I knew to be the man’s. It was big and yellow, clearly bought in a decision defined by his attitude. He was the type of man who’s ego overflowed into his purchases and such. I walked to the single entry and knocked with the force of somebody who is in control, which I knew I wasn’t, but it provided some confidence that I so desperately desired and lacked. It was undeniable that in no way was I a person of great self-assurance. My personality was one of shyness. Shyness proved to be no factor in this fight against the man, though. It was almost as if this lack of sociality was wiped away to reveal a startling amount of sureness. It excited me, this transformation, my new profound feeling of certitude.



The door opened and there he stood, relatively tall with come excessively shiny shoes and suit - looking out of context in this relatively tough part of town. He gazed at me passively, like I wasn’t a threat and spoke in a smooth, detached voice,



“Hello Jack. I’m glad you could make it.” He began to chuckle, gravely and soft.





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