I feel the heat of hand disappear, the collision of earth to glass. I feel the pain of a fracture crawl from my base, to my mouth, and the pieces disperse.

Life, such an unfair thing, they say you have to work hard to have a good one. Well, that, that my friends is lie. A blatant, cruel, lie, the kind that would leave me scared for the rest of my existence. I work hard every day so I can get the money my wife and I deserve. So we can have life, and we can continue that life happily. What do I get? A life full of pain and suffering, the salty taste of blood and tears and sweat, millions of wooden splinters driving my mind insane, and lies.

At first it seemed as if my life were normal, I would wake like the average man, strut my way down the cobblestone, and open the grotesque doors to my day job. You see, I worked as a lumber man at the local lumber mill, and I was the best one there. There was a guarantee that I would get the promotion, I would defiantly be field supervisor. But…I didn’t. Instead my good-for-nothing co-worker, John, did.

It didn’t make sense, how could a pig like that man get a promotion when I don’t? Then man doesn’t even do a thing! He risks our lives every day, by being oblivious to the stirring logs, and makes me rage at every moment. So much that I scream at him regularly to get his head in the game! Then what does he do? Nothing! He just sits there like a lump and takes long swigs of his whiskey. Oh, how that man disgusts me, if you do that, then you are not worthy of the honorable title of “Field supervisor”.

When I got word of this I went to the commons, slammed my dry, splintered fist into the innocent wall, and screamed in slight pain, but even more anger. “Why, God!? Why!? Why can’t I get this blasted job!?” Suddenly waves of tears poured down like waterfalls onto my heated cheeks and yelps of heartbreak escaped from my mouth. I plummeted to my knees against the cool flooring, and inhaled the comforting scents of cedar and pine from my hands. I gasped there for a while, like a helpless boy who’s lost his mother. It’s funny though, that saying, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” It seems that sometimes those words can hurt you the most, especially when they aren’t even directed at you.

The moment rang in my mind, rage, pain, tears, breaking. I’m a man, I should know better than this, why am I acting like a child? I lay on the concrete, curled up into a protective ball, as if shielding myself from the world. My tears had seemed to stop for the time being, but emptiness within my torso had still remained. I just lay there, helpless and afraid, lost and caught in a sea of disappointment. On the other hand, a sea can lead to many different places, and a different place it lead.

The room was silent and frigid, like glass, this silence was smooth, but the only thing disrupting my peace was the gurgling of my shallow breath. So I closed my heavy eyes, and rested within my new world where I could easily drift of and nobody would know.
I dreamt of a world, where my troubles drifted away like clouds on a sunny day. In this world I was the king, and whatever I said, went. I rid of all the people who caused me troubles, like John, and my boss, and all the others who had caused me pain. I was a free man, and everything went my way! Nothing would be able to bring me down in my world, and I would continue to be the king of it. I could feel the power pulsing through my veins. I am the king; I am the king of this new world! And my crown could never be removed. Everything would go according to my plans, and how I saw it fit.

I awoke, outraged, to the slam of doors and the familiar chuckling voices of my co-workers.
“So I hear Jim didn’t get the promotion, what do y’all recon he’s feelin’?” Said Mike Gerstein, in a way expressing little concern, and I call this man a friend?
“Euh…Can’t say, one’d think he ain’t very good.” Replied Keaton Barnov, he actually seemed bothered by me. The other man, who was unfamiliar to me, grunted uninterested, preoccupied somehow. I peered at the trio, my dripping eyes glaring grimly. I placed a hand on one of the old wooden tables, weakly, in an attempt to stand upon these weak, wobbly knees. One moment, I’m on the cool concrete, the next I’m practically throwing the table next me across the room. There was a burst of heat within my face, and a sense of power filling my body with unknown strength. I was to the point of panting as I slammed my crude hands against a new table, giving the men a cold stare.
“I appreciate your concern…” I gasped, panting, grinding my pearly teeth together.
“J-Jim! I didn’t notice you! Are you ok?” Said Keaton in response to my agony.
“Do I look ok to you?” I managed to snap angrily.
“…Well no…But I know something that would make you feel a lot better.” He spat nervously, but with slight confidence flowed within his cloudy, yet glowing, orthoclase, eyes.
“And what exactly would be?” I questioned him, looking at the man with such fierceness; I was more or less interrogating him.
“Mike, Tyler, and I are going to the tavern tonight; we’re going to take you with us.” Smiling, and with a blunt look of force slapped him in the face, it was almost fake, you could tell.
“…But I don’t have any money to spare…” I stuttered, calming down. “And Keaton, you know Della doesn’t want me to drink…”
“Well!,” He shouted, sprinting to my side, taking me by my arm, dragging me like a rag doll, to the other men. “too bad for your wife! We’re taking you for the night!”
“H-Hey! You can’t do that!” I barked, trying to become free.
“Oh yes we can!” Said the three men, together, in unison.
“…What have I gotten myself into?” I said, sighing and chortling.

I’ve got to admit, I never thought that I’d actually enjoy drinking. I’d actually had a lot of fun with them. I had gotten to know Tyler, the man who I hadn’t recognized. He was new to the mill, in training, Mike picked him up. But, this feeling, it was amazing. At first, I hated the taste, it was yeasty and nauseating, like a mixture of vomit and ashes (Like I know what this tastes like.). Then, by the second, it got bubbly and it had a fun aftertaste, wheaty almost, like really airy bread. Then, at the third, I started to get dizzy, and I couldn’t hide my happiness, I laughed, and drank, and then…My troubles came back.
“Aw-right Jim! Time ta geet ye back home, whad’ya say? I’m sure that pretty ‘ittle wife of yours is waitin’ at the door for ye!..Hic!” Exclaimed a very drunk Tyler, who then playfully smacked my back, and lead us towards the exit.

It was about the time that my friends had dropped me off at my house, around midnight, maybe later. I took a bottomless breath, taking in the smoky, fresh air. I closed my emerald eyes, for an endless second, popped my neck and faced my head forward. I slowly, oh so slowly, with my heart hurdling, bounding from one side of my chest to the other. I knew in deep within the caves of my mind, I was afraid. But my topsoil thoughts were telling me otherwise. They told me that I was the king, this was my world, I had supreme powers. Anything I wanted, everything I wanted, it could happen. I just had to say the word…

This was not the case though, John’s promotion had gotten to me again, and the fact that I was disgusted by his very heart beat. It made me furious, but I needed to keep my labor away from Della. And with a bit of luck, we’d be able to get my mind off things. Still heated, I knocked twice, and awaited the exquisite countenance of my spouse.

It had taken her a minute, and I suppose that she was just preparing herself, who knows women these days? Anyways, she opened the door carefully, as if she were expecting a lion to pounce on her, I didn’t really understand why because she lit up immediately upon seeing me. I ignored her greeting. Make no mistake, she was stunning. She had been bearing the dress I gave her a small number of years ago. It made her even more striking, so in awe of her beauty, I attacked her. I had the woman in my arms in a moment, pinned against a decaying wall. I could feel the warmth of her breath, and the contours of her body, I wanted feel everything of her, but the thin shield of velvet was preventing this. So I forced my lips against hers, savoring the moment, pleading her to love me. I was rejected, instantly; I felt her tender hands shove me back away from her body, and she screamed.
“J-Jim! Are you drunk!?” Fearful, she panted, griping her dress close to her, like she was trying to keep me from stripping it from her porcelain skin. But I simply stood there, my ratty jacket hanging by threads on my broad shoulders.
“Drunk?” I had snorted, darkly. “I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re talking about, love.” Then I peered into her unfathomable amber eyes, so deeply that I could see her horrified soul. I snickered again, winking at her, clicking mildly.
“Jim. No. Stop, please!” She yelped, as she began to weep, her voice was shaking and her narrow fingers twitched.
“Oh, love, give it up. I’m in a good mood. Why don’t we go have some fun?” I whispered, laughing again. I kept looking into those big eyes of hers, and twirled her chocolaty brown hair with my burly finger-tips.
“No. I’m not in a good mood, leave me alone.” She said with haste, anger, hurt, backing up to the rotting door. Not only her, but I too, was becoming angry. I followed her to the current position, frowning.
“Dell. We can do this the easy way, or the hard.” My muscles became stone, and my once full lips became pale, pursed in rage. The woman, who had been refusing my offer, was screeching, whirling around then continuing to soar out the door.

For some reason, I did not peruse, I stood in the doorway wondering why my commands weren’t being fulfilled. This is my world after all, isn’t it? So I just stood there, in bewilderment, plotting a plan to get my darling back home, and use force if needed. And in this case, I might. Carefully, I crooked my head towards the cupboard beside the stove. This is where we kept our many scarce veins of wine, whiskey, or any other sort. It was usually stored for those nights under the candlelight. Casually, I paced to the rotting cupboard, opened the soft doors, and retrieved a single, empty bottle.

I stood there for another moment, fondling the glass within my palms. I cooed at the texture, and winced at the temperature. It seemed perfect for the job, it was thin, but wouldn’t break easily, and not too thick so it could do some damage. This would teach her the lesson that needed to be learned; I will always get what I want, I am god of my world.

As if trying to hide my plans from my world I hid the bottle within the core of my coat, if someone were to look, they would think it’s just a very large wrinkle, common within my class. I strode to the nearest corner, stomping the snow and stones out of my way, I did not panic when I saw her mass sprinting, I simply walked right up behind her.

I wanted to take her right here, right now, but I better save that humility. Right now I just need to catch her, pretend like she passed out on her own, carry her limp body home, and love her like a husband should. If anybody asks, I’ll just say that I’m taking her home to give her some rest, that when we were out for a stroll, she just suddenly passed out. Foolproof.

Quickly, I thrust my hand in front of mouth, almost gagging her. She tried to fight back, biting, squirming, but she couldn’t escape from my claws. As if gagging her, I clenched her jaw to muffle her cries of despair. With my free hand I plucked the bottle from my side and raised it above our heads.

“Why couldn’t you just do this the easy way, love?” I said with a darkness rising within my voice. I chuckled as her bright amber eyes widened and closed with the strike. I felt her body go limp, each of her muscles relax, and it was like silk. Loose and soothing, her fright was finally over. I just had to get her back to the apartment; I would only then be cleared of any suspicious on-lookers.

Everything went according to my plan that night; I carried my darling wife back to our putrid abode, loved her properly, and rested for the new day. It was a fairly simple task, once I had her down, the journey was a breeze. I was able to traverse without any arising questions. Once indoors, I chuckled as I followed her down and felt her soft skin against mine. It was the best feeling I’ve had for a long time, and as such, I savored the moment.

My name is Jim Young, the man who is unfamiliar to solitude. I am the man who will never break down to the over consumption of alcohol in my system. No, it only makes me stronger. These feelings of authority and superiority were pulsing within my veins. This is my world, and everything will go my way, I will change the so called planet earth, and make it bow down to my feet!

This is my moment!