Chapter 1 "A daily routine in a Chaotic World"
"BEEP!"..."BEEP!"..."BEEP!"
Augh, why did my alarm have to go off.
Turning my head to see my alarm clock
5:30 AM
My name is Zack, short for Zackery. And right now I feel like crap. Not because it's five thirty in the morning, but because my dream has left me exhausted. It felt so real too, especially that girl with the blond hair and red eyes.
Strange thing is that it's the same dream that featured her for the fifth night this week.
Speaking of blond hair, I started to wake up by rubbing my fingers through mine.
Zack: Well…..Better see if I'm lucky to get hot water for my shower.
Normally the boiler is on the fits, so I normally get cold showers. But a guy can dream, can't he.
I live in an apartment complex for foster children, I unfortunately never knew my mother. My father is another story internally, let's just say I don't like to talk about it for a justified reason. But I won't be a child for long, or have a home for long ether. In less then a month I turn 18, meaning I am no longer eligible for either adoption or sleeping here for long. Once you become 18, they kick you out. Whoever's in charge claims you can make it on your own. But I personally think it's to cut corners.
In fear I would ever become homeless, I started my own little emergency fund carefully hidden under one of the floorboards. Which reminds me.
I grabbed the loose change I earned through tips, walked over to the same loose floorboards, and decided to open one of several jars filled with cash. Carefully counting how much and how many, deposit each coin and bill into its respective jar.
Zack: Now all that's left to do is get washed up, eat some oatmeal, and off to work.
Another day, another dollar, or in my case it be a nickel. I'm pretty sure my boss is underpaying me. But beggars can't be choosers in this economy .
Just my luck, cold water again. After my shower, I took the time to look myself over in the mirror. Nothing abnormal, except my eyes.
One unique feature about my appearance that stood out as unusual was my eye color.
Due to a pigment mutation of melanin, my eyes were born with the color purple. I once thought it was a sign I was blessed with the power of Sahasrara, the crown chakra.
Zack: Okay, I shaved, combed my hair, all that is left is my oatmeal and the rest of my monkey suit.
More specifically, my bowtie and barista apron.
Rushing over to the kitchen to scoop some hot cereal with a dash of honey and some black coffee.
Zack: Well, time to dig in.
Shoveling down spoonful's, trying to see if I can make it to work. One day after for sure, I'm gonna quit, find a place of better employment. That or achieve my dream in music. Get a fancy new apartment. A mattress big enough for a king, no shot out springs, lined with Egyptian cotton sheets. And if I have enough leftover, a stereo system and video game consult, don't care what brand, or what system. Don't care if it'll be used or old. I'll probably have time to pick up a hobby, the most fun to me would be sketchbook. Maybe get a pet to snuggle up to at night. That way the place won't be lonely, something small and furry. Get a whole network of friends to hangout with. If I'm really lucky, a girlfriend.
Yeah!
I'm gonna make that a reality. I'm not gonna get kicked out, I'm leaving this dump! I may have struggled most in my childhood. I was never handed anything in life, but that just made me work harder. My true power is never giving up!
With that motivational monologue, I finished the rest of my oatmeal and coffee. With breakfast accomplished, I washed my bowl, and bursted out my door. Turning the key to lock the door so no one could break it, or snoop for my savings
I walked out the building and hopped on my rusty bike, got it at a good deal at the pawn shop. I may not have a car, but personally, I don't need one.
It took a lot of motivation, determination, and figuring out making time. I spent the last 7 years of intense physical training. When I first went to this dump, I was so scared I was gonna become an easy target. The only one that could truly save me, was only me. In order to survive, I need to become strong! Everything from push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, 10 kilometer run through the city, and anything in the junkyard next door could be substituted as weights.
Zach: Okay, it's time to really put the meaning behind "Put The Pedal To The Metal"!
Play song; Sonic Rooftop Run (Day)
Location; Coffee Shop
Panting trying to catch my breath, a result after the major legwork pedaling my bike through rush hour traffic.
Made it to work early. All I need to do is punch in my time card and start the day off on the right foot.
Just then, the door to the back room slammed open.
The Manager: ZACK! YOU'R LATE AGAIN!
His outburst startled me half to death! Wait, did he say late?
Zack: LATE!? But sir, my shift doesn't start until another thirty minutes? I'M EARLY!
A ladle got shoved in my face, preventing me from arguing.
Boss: There is no such thing as working too early me boyo. Now get in the kitchen, we got today's special on the menu on demand! And we have several orders of it, ON THE DOUBLE!
Zack: But I'm scheduled to work the register today.
Boss: Yeah, well my business has deen going down under budget lately. So in order to keep a float with competition, I cut half the staff in half! Meaning the other half has to do twice the work! SO MOVE IT, SLACKER!
Zack: EEP!
I just ran to the kitchen, you couldn't argue when he got like this. Boss always weaponized his temper when it came to business, even if that meant very unethical work conditions and employee rights violations.
Zack: Phew…What a day.
Wiping the sweat off my brow, I may have worked through lunch, but I must have earned a double shift's pay or very least overtime. Just got a finish washing these last few dishes, then I'm done.
Boss: ZACK! GET IN HERE, NOW!
Zack: AAH!
Boss's voice started so bad, I dropped the plate I was washing by accident.
"CRACK!"
Boss: AND THAT'S COMING OUT OF YOUR PAYCHECK, SOAPY BUTTERFINGERS!
Augh, what is he made about now? Did I do something wrong? Only one way to find out is to face the music. Hesitating to open what wrath lies behind Boss's office door. Muster enough courage, and turn the door handle.
Zack: You wanted to see sir?...Am I in trouble with anything?
Boss's expression just shifts from anger to confusion.
Boss: What? You're not in trouble. I just hollered your name to get you in here. Yelling has always worked to get the staff's attention.
😐😮 💨….…Ookay then?
Zack: So why ask me to see you, sir?
Boss: To tell you the good news, me boyo. I'm selling the cafe. So effectively immediately, all staff under employment of this establishment is hereby terminated. In other words, you're fired.
Zack:….WHHAAAAAT!😱
I didn't have the inner strength to ride my bike home, losing my job just too upsetting. Don't get me wrong. I hated my job, but work is work. And especially during hard times, finding new employment is even harder. But I'll find a way, I always do.
So lost in my own thoughts, I didn't pay attention to my surroundings. Distracted still by today, I failed to realize I turned on a different street on the way back home.
Just a different shortcut home, right?
"Click"
I turned my head to see what made that sound. Only to see a switch blade being pointed at my face.
The man was wearing a dirty cotton trench coat, ripped pants, and had no shoes. Insead had bandages wrapped around his dirty feet. His appearance was unwashed, five-o-clock shadow, and blood shot eyes. Judging by his appearance, this man was in fact a Drug Addict!
Drug Addict: OKAY KID! HE'RE'S HOW IT'S GONNA WORK OUT! YOUR MONEY, OR YOUR LIFE!? THROW IN THAT BIKE TOO! YOUR CALL, YA SPOILED BRAT!?
That Word!
Zack: What did you just call me?
Drug Addict; WHAT'S IT TO YA, YA SPOILED BRAT!? JUST SHUT UP AND GIVE ME EVERYTHING YA GOT!
That word, it's that same damn word that….He used to call me.
~Flashback~
I was only 9, was being dropped off child services, tears falling down after begging to the overweight man in front of me. He only looked down at me, with resentment and bitter contempt in his eyes. Saying that last three words that I would ever hear come from his mouth.
"Ya Spoiled Brat."
~End of Flashback~
The mad man lunged forward, with his knife in hand. Before the blade ever touched me, he failed to realize something.
"Grab!"
Drug Addict: HUH!? WHAT THE FUuuuuah?
He stopped his sentence midway. Switching expression from aggression to fear when he looked in my eyes. He didn't know, but I don't care. Nobody Calls Me That Word, Without Digging Their Own Grave!
Zack: NO ONE…EVER…..CALLS ME…..SPOILED BRAT…AND LIIIIVVVVEEEES!
Tightening my grip, and twisting his wrist the opposite direction.
"Crack!"
Drug Addict: AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Twisting his arm and pulling him forward. I made a fist.
"BAM!"
Firing a blow to his stomach with no holding back.
The mad man coughed up something, then fell downward holding his gut. But he's not off the hook just yet.
I repeatedly kicked him in the groin, landing as many kicks as possible. As he holard in pain, I then reached out, grabbing him by his coat's collar.
"SLAM!"
I slammed him into brickwall, pinning him so he wouldn't escape to hear this.
Zack: I'M GONNA SAY THIS ONCE, NEVER CALL ME THAT AGAIN! YOU DON'T KNOW THE FIRST THING ABOUT ME! I WAS ABANDONED! I HAD TO WORK EVERY SINGLE DAY IN MY LIFE! I HAD TO STRUGGLE IN ORDER TO SURVIVE!
I dropped him, causing him to fall hard on the concrete.
Zack: You don't know the first thing about me!
He looked up at me.
Zack: Besides, I don't have any cash. I lost my job today. Even if I did, I wouldn't give it to someone who prefers to indulge in poisons rather than buying food or water. Look at yourself!
He looked shocked.
Zack: Attacking people you know nothing about, stealing from others in order to continue your path of bad choices. And to top it off, you didn't stop at attempted murder just to get what you want out of life. You oughta be ashamed of yourself.
He was speechless, as if my words pierced his heart like bullets. I decided to point my arm in the opposite direction.
Zack: Look, I had a really bad day, so I'm not in the mood. There's a center I passed over there that specializes in helping people who are either addicted or struggling. In your case, you're an example of both cases. Why don't you head over there for a hot meal, a place to sleep, and the help you clearly need.
He paused, as to question why I said that to him. Look with a face that says "Why are you trying to help me?" This of course pissed me off.
Zack: LOOK, JUST GET OUT OF HEAR BEFORE I GET MAD!
Drug Addict: GUAH!
He then ran in the opposite direction I pointed at in fear.
I may have crossed a line and gotten a bit too far. He could have been in the same position I used to be in, only to lose everything by chance, with nowhere to go but to be put on the wrong path.
"Sigh"
Maybe I'm just as bad for betting him up, or maybe even worse.
Just before I countie to walk down this new shortcut, I heard some rattling behind some alleyway garbage cans.
Zack: Who's There!?
The rattling continued, until some stacked boxes collapsed.
Despite my better judgment, I decided to take a look. I carefully walked over to not make a sound. And to discreetly lift each box to see what was making all the ruckus. Lifting the last one, I found an open box that was being used as a makeshift bed. Within that box was a little pick dog, shivering in fear.
It looked like the dog was clearly a boy. Breed looks some sort of a mixed beagle, judging by his snout. With thin long black ears, triangular nose, and three black spots on his back. He was wearing a worn down purple color.
I put my hand out for the little dog to sniff me, to establish trust. Giving my hand a couple sniffs, he allowed me to give his little head a couple pets. I took the opportunity to pick him up to analyze his dog tag, no address, only a name.
"Courage".
Zack: Courage, huh? Well you must have a lot of it to survive out here in this ally for so long. But where's your family little fella?
His little eyeballs started to tear up, hearing his little voice whimper and sniffle was too heartbreaking to hear. This little guy clearly must have lost his original family, can't imagine what he must have gone through losing them.
Zack: Would…You….Like….To…Come home…..With me?
He stopped his whimper and cracked a smile, he then started to lick my face. Giving me as many puppy kisses as possible. Causing me to laugh a little.
Zack: Okay, Okay, you're welcome. You know, I had a pretty rotten day. But you just turn my frown upside down. Come on little buddy.
I decided to put him in my bike's basket to give his little paws some much needed rest.
Zack: Let's go home.
I pushed my bike and my new furry friend panting with joy, his tongue sticking out and his little tail wagging out of excitement.
I did say I wanted a pet, I didn't expect it to get one this way. But I'm not complaining, it'll be comforting not waking up alone anymore. My only problem is my foster home housing apartment's policy.
Zack: Okay Courage, these two things you should know. Number one, my living situation is only temporary. Until I turn 18 in less then a week, I'm gonna be evicted from the foster building. So we're gonna have to put our heads together to look for a new home. And Number two, the building doesn't allow animals. So I'm gonna have to keep you a secret in the meantime. Sounds okay little fella?
The little pink dog shook his head up & down in response.
Courage: Mm-Hmm.
Zack: Heh heh, good.
Stranger: Excuse me, but did you say birthday was less than a week away.
Zach: GAH!?
Courage: OOOOOHHHH!
Criminy Sakes! That scared the crap out of me!
Turning around, seeing the voice came from an old lady. Her hair tied in a bun, glass, and a dark green apron on. She had a few mobile bookshelves parked outside a used book store, with a sign saying "Going out of Business Sale".
Zack: Oh, ah yeah, my birthday is next week.
She merely chucked at my response and simply smiled. Reached out to one of her shelfs, and pulled a thick book out.
Stranger: It may be a bit early, but happy Birthday anyways.
With a warm smile, she handed me the book. I gently took it from her shaking hands. On inspection, the book was made with red leather with a gold trim. And at its center was an gold apple made from metal. Despite needing a little dusting and polishing, the apple had a shine to it.
Stranger: It's an antique, older than the bookstore.
Zack: An antique?
Stranger: Yes, an antique dearie. It once belonged to some sort of baron, but overtime, previous owners have used it to take journal entries, notes of strange subjects, and scrapbook pages from other books. But by far the most peculiar is that all have painted or drawn lovely illustrations in this book.
This book has too much history, and more important special value. I'm sure my conscience wouldn't feel good or guilt free for accepting this.
Zack: Mam, I can't accept this. This is too special to give away.
Stranger: What utter non Scene, dearie. This book has been on my shelves for years now, and all it's done is collect dust. And since I'm sadly going out of business, I think the best thing to do is give it to someone who would deeply appreciate its value. What better way than giving it a gift.
Zack: And you're sure you're okay giving it away? Are you sure I can pay you?
She simply chuckled at my questions.
Stranger: Not a penny, all I ask is that you sign your name to it.
Now who could say no to a warm smile from a sweet old lady.
Zack: Well…..So long as you are okay with it, I appreciate the gift.
Her expression brightened from hearing that, giving my new dog a couple of pats on his little noggin.
Stranger: And I'm sure this little one must be starving, why don't you and your little doggie run along home and get some food in your bellies. I'm sure this little pooch must be starving for his supper.
Waving goodbye and thanking her again for giving me the book, we continued our shortcut home. At first I lost my job, but now I got a gift and a new furry best friend. Maybe my luck is starting to change.
I got my bike chain and locked my ride for the night. I place my new book in my aprons pocket. As for Courage, I knew I had to sneak him in as best as I could without drawing suspicion. I carefully took the little guy out of the bike's basket, and tucked him in my button up shirt. Hugging him for comfort and hunching over to hide him best to my ability.
Walking up the staircase, made it to the third floor, and quickly down the hallway.
Zack: Just wait like fella, you and I are gonna have so much fun together. I may not have dog food at the moment, but I just restocked the refrigerator, so I should have something yummy for you…and…..me?
My mood switched from joy to shock, for my door was ripped off its hinges. Bash and jagged marks were shown visible to the wood.
Zack: MY ROOM!
I ran over, almost slipping on the floor from me rushing over. It was truly an awful site, my poor apartment room had been robbed.
What little furniture was there, was now broken. My fridge once filled with food for the week, not ransacked emptied. Floorboards ripped open.
Wait?….FLOORBOARDS!?
I accidentally dropped Courage, rushed over to see my worst fear, all my savings…were all gone! The jars I had filled for years now, had been emptied and shattered
I dropped down to my knees, tears started to fill my eyes. All I could think is why?
Zack: They really did it, did they?...They took everything…..
Everything I had worked for, everything I saved, everything I had dreamed about. Now gone, all gone. All I could think was, why? WHY THIS HAD TO HAPPEN!? I WAS ABANDONED! DISOWNED! HAD TO STRUGGLE JUST TO SURVIVE! AND WHAT DO I HAVE TO SHOW FOR IT!? EMPTY JARS SHATTERED, JUST LIKE EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE!
I didn't ask for much, did what I was told, and where did that get me. Punished, just for existing.
When I was a kid, all I wanted was a family. When my High School Senior year came, I wanted to attend community college. Here in the present, all I wanted now was a future to live for tomorrow. Nothing big, just a home, friends, to find love. But now all in vain, all because some asshole stole everything I had worked so hard to obtain. What others in the present day take for granted every single day. Now, it's all gone.
I crumbled on to the floor, curling into a ball as hot tears ran down my face. Tears I had bottled up for the last nine years. Tears I refuse to cry, refuse to give into despair. But that's all that I'm feeling now.
Just then, I felt gentle licks across my cheek bones. Wiping away my tears. It was lil Courage, poking his little nose through my arms, trying to comfort me in my darkest hour.
This sweet little dog was desperately trying to help me, yet I promised I'd help him.
I wrapped my arms around him, as I cried my tears into fur.
Zack: I'm so sorry lil guy, I promised you a home and a meal, but now I don't think I can't even feed myself anymore.
Courage's ear's drooped down, trying to hug me back with his tiny body.
Zack: I just wish there was something that would eventually turn good in my life. That I can take back my happiness. I wish there was some way for me to change the cards I was delt in my.
One can only hope now.
Author's Note: Well I hope chapter 1 wasn't too depressing. But trust me, our protagonist's luck might change in chapter 2. I'm not gonna reveal any spoilers. But let's say Zack's book plays a much bigger picture for the story.
Till then, tell me what you think of my first fanfiction and hope you stay tuned for Chapter 2
"Down the Rabbit Hole to The Inferno"