Twelve hours

Twelve hours ago I did something I thought I would never do. At least not in this apartment where I live.

Twelve hours ago, I received a call that I had been fired from my new job.

Twelve hours ago, I became so enraged that I pounded on the wall so hard that I put a hole in it.

I was awakened by the telephone ringing. I call back who called and it was Resource MFG. They said that I was fired from my new job that I just started three weeks prior. It enraged me so much that when I heard our noisy neighbor, who likes to blare his stereo loud enough for us to hear, was doing it again, it became just that little, teensy, tiny bit that pushes you way, way, beyond the edge. I just started pounding on the wall to get him to stop and after only two, three hits, my right fist made a hole in the wall. I only got a couple scratches from it, but I should have gotten more. I should have gotten broken bones. I should have gotten skin ripped from my hand so I bled profusely. It's what I deserve for putting a hole in the wall of my apartment.

I can still slightly feel the dull throb of my hand where it went through the wall. It's probably gone away itself by now, but I savor the memory because it is what I deserve.

I know I will pay for the damages I have caused. If need be, I will work for the caretakers doing odd, little pissant jobs from now until the end of time to pay it off.

I can and won't ever forgive myself for doing this. There is no reason for me to.

And with this entry, I will never forget as well.

Posted by: James at 05:14 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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