Waking Up

Waking UpBy: Calamity Jay

Chapter 1: Emergence

" I could really use a miracle right now. God knows I do,"

     “Hey! Leroy!” A harsh, feminine voice calls out your name. It was the voice of your boss, a particular voice you have to come to despise and have deemed it to be the voice of the devil himself. Now that you think about it, the tone of her voice borders on that of a man's.

“Yes ma’am?” You answer back, trying not to sound irritated in doing so.

“Did you send off the invoices like I told you to do yet?” She asks while approaching you, with a glare that just makes you feel like did something wrong. In this case, you most likely did.

'Fuck' You think to yourself, sitting on the chair of your desk, you whirl around to face her. In the early hours of your eight hour shift, you were out on the front lines with the newly hired cashiers, making sure that none of them fuck up any sales. Unfortunately, most of them were not exactly savvy with the computers that ran the transactions; most of the customers had memberships and needed identification when making purchases. More than once they mucked up a sale, which meant that you had to come in for the rescue. What angered you even more, was the fact that your boss made no effort to help, staying in her office and on the phone most of the time. And now she has the gall to stand before you and ask why you are not doing your job.

“Well?! Did you do them or not?!” She demanded, her nostrils flaring. Her face was well wrinkled, showing just how old she was; hair tied up in bun that just made her face seem like it was being pulled back, her eyes were looked like she was about to shoot lasers out of them. She was the devil dressed in a skirt and blouse.

“Uh, no not yet. B-but in my defense I was out there keeping an eye on the new guys!"

“Leroy I don't care if you were out there doing CPR on a passed out customer who just found out the new Call of Duty game has just been sold out!" She yelled, making you cringe in the process. "You were supposed to get those invoice sent in by the end of today!"

"I'm sorry ma'am, but what would you have had me do? You were busy in your office and things would've been worse for the store if the new guys messed up the sales!"

“I don't give a damn, Evans! You have your responsibilities! What are you even doing right now?"

"Uh I was just about to start on them right now." You knew damn well that you were not about to start on them as you were actually working on something else: An application for a different store. Right from this office, you've applied for management job to three other stores; all of which sadly turned you down. She saw right through your white lie and turned your seat around, glaring right at you.

"You listen here," She points a slightly wrinkled finger at you, it looked like it could stab right through your chest. "You already know what happens when we don't get those monthly invoice reports in on time. The store gets less funding from the company, I get a pay deduction, and do you know what happens when I get a pay deduction?"

"Uh, I get one too?"

"No," She replies calmly. "First, I YELL AT YOU!" You cringe once again from the volume. "Ask you why the hell you aren't doing your job correctly. Make you work overtime again and close the store again." She whips around and walks towards the exit of the room. "And then you get a pay deduc. So I suggest you get to work, you have to stay and re-shelve each and every game today, and make sure you finish or~ YOU'RE FIRED!" She emphasizes her last words by slamming the door and leaving the room.

"Well, this just great," You chuckle as you turn around and slam your face on the desk. "This is just fucking great," You grumble into the wooden desk, wondering what in the hell made you apply here. "Why in the name of all fuck did I decide to work here? Seriously she seemed so nice during the interview." You sit there a little while, wondering where your life went wrong. Sure you finished college, got a job, but where was that excitement in starting your career that everyone talks about? This, by no means, felt like a career; this job felt more like an end to justify the mean. The mean being that you needed something to keep yourself off the streets and to pay off your student debts. 'Hmph, ain't life grand?' You muse to yourself as you start your work which hopefully would not take too long.

ooo000oo000ooo

You let out a heavy sigh as you place the last box into the shelf. "Urgh, damn gamers. Never putting the box back into its proper place." Sadly, filling out the invoice had taken longer than you hoped. By the time the end of the day came along, you barely finished sending off the invoices and your boss said that you had to close everything up; including reshelving all the games. All of that right before she informed you of your new pay deduction. Thankfully the building is part of a plaza and was not too big, so fixing up the games only took a couple of hours. Not only that, you also had your knowledge of the store to thank since you've been working here for a reluctant eight months. The only bright side you could see in your situation was that you loved video games as much as everyone that walked through those doors. You went ahead and made sure that all the cash registers were emptied of their contents and put in the safe in the back; you checked the doors to make sure they were locked, then off to the the security system where you input the number code. You have done this routine so many times you almost did it unconsciously. Finally, everything was done. Store is locked up, games put away, money is safe and sound. "Well, I'm out of here. See you tomorrow." You give the store one last look before you make your way to the back room.

There was a back door in the office that you left work through so many times. You stepped out into the parking lot where it was now empty, all of the workers hastily made their way home after closing time. You wanted to ask them to help you put away the games, but they all made bullshit excuses about how they were late for some other thing or that they had homework to do; some of them were in fact college students. So that left you alone in the store, grumbling to yourself about how ungrateful they were for your guidance. Nevertheless, you still had a job that you wish you did not have to do.

"Well, end of the day, eh? I think I know where to go." A smile creeps it's way onto your face as you walk out of the parking lot of the plaza and onto the sidewalk. The city of Katy was not a big one, so therefore your destination was not that far away. The fall season, in which school rears it's ugly head once again after the summer. It was a cool Tuesday night, which means that most people are inside, relaxing and enjoying the rest of their evening; most likely about to get ready for bed and rest up for the next day. The streets were almost empty, people who worked late were already making their way home, much like you were. Only difference being that you did not have a working vehicle to use, which meant that you would take the bus to work and since you did not have much to do at your apartment, you would walk home. Of course, you would repair your car, but with that new pay deduction you received, money would be tight for a while. And with your student debts coming in along with rent, you barely had enough for food and other essentials.

"Huh, looks like I'm the only one on the streets again," You said to yourself, the sidewalk was indeed empty as you passed by different stores and alleyways. "I'm sure Johnny boy would not mind if I pay him a visit."

You knew that the bartender at the local bar would definitely not turn down a customer. Especially after a hard day at work, a drink was something that you desperately needed. Most people would call you a drunk since the bar is where you go after each day, but you know that every drink you get is well deserved. Its not like you go to the bar out of needless want. After about ten minutes of walking down the sidewalk you tread upon day after day, you finally reach your desired destination: 'Johnny's Tavern'. "Aha, my home away from home!." You chuckle as you walk into the parking lot of the bar. You walk by a couple of cars in front the door and past a couple of guys smoking cigarettes, and into the bar itself. The scene before you is all too familiar: light country music being played on the jukebox, couples sitting in booths drinking beers, friends standing at the pool tables having a game, and of course people sitting at the counter having a drink of their own. And there stood you old and only friend, with his apron on and tending to another customer. He hears the doorbell ring and looks over to you and you wave at him sheepishly. "Yo! Johnny!"

"Leroy! Excuse me sir," He greets and leaves the overly stressed customer he was serving.

You come up to the counter and take a seat on the stool, your toes touching the floor. “So, what’ll it be today Leroy? The usual?” Johnny asks, placing his hands on the counter.

“Hey there Johnny, yeah go ahead and give me a cold one please.” You lean your elbows on the bar and run a hand through your curly black hair, the head ache from today pulsing in your temples.

“Right,” Johnny replied as he reached under the bar to the ice chest below for a beer. “Here ya go, first one’s on me amigo.” He slides the beer over to you.

“Thanks,” You grumble, and take the forty ounce bottle. instead of using your hand, you use your mouth to bite the cap off and spit it back out onto the counter.

“You know, it don't take a damn psychic to figure out what you're feeling. What's on your mind?” Johnny asked as he wiped down the bar counter.

“Uh huh. Ms. Bitch made me stay late and fix up the store, so here I am, taking a load off,” You say as you take a swig from your beer.

“What’d you do this time?” The bartender deadpanned at you, letting go of the rag. "How bad did you fuck up?"

“Why do you assume I fucked up something?"

“Because,” He places down a glass he had just started scrubbing. “You’ve been coming here long enough for me to get to know you and your tendencies. So tell me the details”

“Well I screwed up by not sending off some invoices, the boss got mad at me, gave me a pay deduc, and made me stay late...again” You take a bigger swig of your drink.

“Not much I can give for that Leroy. All I can say is that you fucked up. Royally.”

“Gee, thanks," You take yet another sip. "I thought bartenders were supposed to give good advice?"

“I’m a bartender, not a miracle worker Leroy,” He replied, going to help another customer.

     “Right, right, I forgot about that. But I could really use a miracle right now. God knows I do,” You sighed as you take a big swig and place your beer back down. The beer was helping with the headache, but even then you rubbed your temples trying to ebb the pain away.

“So you need a miracle hmm?” A smooth feminine voice rang out next to you. You almost jumped out of your seat as you heard the voice, but decided to just keep staring at the beer bottle.

“Uh huh, a miracle would be nice,” You lament still not looking to where the voice came from as you take another drink, definitely taking it's toll on you.

“Hmm, well I can see that, maybe I can do something about that,” The voice cooed. As enticing as that sounds, you were not in the mood to deal with this.

     “Thanks, but I’m not looking for any hand outs at the moment,” You sigh as you take a deep pull off the bottle. It was true, after the horrible day you had, you just wanted to enjoy solitude with your beer.

“That’s a shame, but you never know. Maybe a miracle will happen soon, but the real question is, will you be ready for it?”

“I’m honestly ready for anything, so hit me with your best shot miss.” You challenge without even stealing a glance at the potentially fine-looking woman next you.

“Hmm, well we shall see about that. I must be going, I will be seeing you soon. Leroy Evans," That knocked you out of your half buzzed state, this 'woman' knew your name and you did not even know who she was. Or what she looked like for that matter.

As quickly as you could, your whirl around  to spot whoever was talking to you and to find out how in the world they knew your name. Instead, you turn to see that no one there and that there was no sign of them sitting next to you. The stool at your side remains untouched and the bar door had not been opened or closed. You are dumbstruck and you look down at your beer making sure it wasn’t expired and causing you to hear things. You sigh as you put down your the bottle, now you really needed a drink. Johnny is standing at the other side of the bar, listening to another customer’s problems like a good bartender.

“Hey! Johnny!” You call out, grabbing the attention of your friend.

“Be right there, excuse me sir,” He says to the other sad, overly stressed customer.

Johnny makes his way over to you. “What do you need Leroy?”

“Hey John, did you happen to see anyone standing next to me and then leave?” You ask finishing off the rest of your beverage.

“Nope, but I did hear you talking to yourself for some weird reason, you sure you alright man?”

“I don’t know man, it’s been a rough day. Maybe I just need another drink, then another after that, and then another after that…” You say while rubbing your temples from the stress.

“Hearing voices eh? I’m no expert, but that is definitely not a good thing so yes sir, I believe you do need a drink my friend,” He says pulling out a bottle of Jack Daniels, “And in light of your new pay cut, all drinks for you are half off tonight."

“Hmph, aren’t you the sweetest thing? Thanks man,” you say as Johnny pours you a shot.

“There you go, again, first one’s on me Leroy,” He slid the shot glass over to you and you picked it up gratefully.

“Again, thanks John,” You say as you swirl the light brown liquid around in the small glass. You slowly bring it to your lips to take a drink, but Johnny stops you.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna make a toast? Can’t have a drink of good whiskey without making a toast.”

“Oh yeah, right, forgot about that,” You wonder what to make a toast to. After a moment of thought an idea pops into your head. “Here’s to things getting better and praying for miracles,” You say as you raise your glass slightly.

“Hear, hear."

     You knock back the shot like a trooper, feeling the warm alcohol flowing down your throat. Immediately you feel the effects of the whiskey, and also a lot more buzzed. For some reason, you have a strong feeling for another drink of this heavenly nectar. You put on a dopey grin as you raise your shot glass, motioning for a refill. “Hey Johnny, I’m like the Sahara desert over here. Fill me up another one will ya?”

“Sure thing,” He pours you the shot, “Feeling a little better?”

“Ohhh yeah, I feel loads better, all thanks to you my friend,” You raise your glass again in appreciation.

“Hey, I’m a bartender, its more than just pouring drinks. I give advice, I listen to people’s problems, hell I’ve even fixed broken relationships. Ha! Its like Oprah in here! You get a drink! You get a drink! Everybody gets a drink! Whoo!” You and Johnny share a much needed laugh. After you calm down and wipe the tears from your eyes, you continue to pour shot after shot and drink the night away.

*Scene Break*

The time flew by faster than you thought possible. However, knocking back all those shots and beers had a play in making time go faster. During your time there, you had decided to have a little chat with a group playing at the pool table. You had asked if you could join in, to which they agreed, and you put all your skills in pool into play. There was five people at the time playing, adding you that made six; teams of three of were made. It was a challenging game, but in the end you triumphed over the other team. You had celebrated with your new-found friends with high-fives and beer chugs. There was even a bet, and the bet was that the losers had to buy the winners a round of drinks. After your victory and free round, the group you were with decided to have a little party by buying a few more rounds. In fact you lost count of how many drinks you had after you hit over six more shots of whiskey and over 7 beers. It was a grand time and you felt a tad bit down after your new friends had to leave. They actually offered for you to come join them, but it was a Tuesday and your boss was already going to be displeased after you go to work with a hangover.

“Leroy, are you sure you’re okay to walk home?” Johnny asked with concern.

“Nnnooppe! I’m good Joey-"

“Johnny,” he corrected.

“Same thing, anyway I gotta get home to feed the cat,” You slurred. It was ironic because you did not own a cat, but with your current state, your mind may as well just be drawing out random words and stringing them together.

“I don’t know man, you look and sound pretty wasted to me." He warned as you stumbled for the door.

“Look, I’m fine! I just need to get home and lie down,” You slurred out again. In reality you were very much inebriated, but your good old friend Jack Daniels made you think otherwise.

“Alright, well take care Leroy!” He called out, waving you off as he stacked up a few chairs.

“Okay, later Jamie!” you slurred out as you stumbled through the front door and out onto the now less busy street.

Johnny simply shakes his head and chuckles. “Hmph, that man better be careful. He might take a wrong step somewhere.”

You begin the trek to your apartment complex, which was a few blocks away. It would not have been a problem, all you had to do was cross a few streets and you were there. However in your condition, a few blocks may as well have been a few miles. You took one staggering step after the other, and for some reason you were humming a tune. A drinking man’s tune to be exact.

“Red Solo cup, I fill you up!

Let’s have a party!

Let’s have a party!”

     You aimlessly hummed this tune as you walked. They actually played this song when one of your drinking friends shouted out ‘party!’, and that’s when the festivities evolved into a full-blown beer fest. As you walked and hummed one thought popped into your head, ‘Am I going the right way? Is this the right street? Why is the street so foggy?’ However, it was the amount of liquor and alcohol in your system clouding your judgement. And as it turns out, you weren’t going the right way and you weren’t on the right street! Instead going right after exiting the bar where you usually go, you went left and were going in the wrong direction. But you were not aware of this fact and kept on walking.

A crosswalk was coming up about 10 feet away, and it was a green light. You looked around and saw that there was absolutely no traffic and you decided to walk past the light whether or not it was red. The air was eerily quiet, all the stores had closed up for the night, and there was no one out walking on the sidewalks. You were alone and you became nervous; if anything happened to you, no one would be able to help. Despite the fact you were going the wrong you picked up your pace and proceeded to cross the street. You began staggering across to the other side of the street still humming that silly party song. But in your drunken state you failed to notice the sound of a fast approaching car. The driver was swerving erratically, and being as inebriated as you are, you fail to notice the fact that he is mere feet away from you. You only see a bright white light right when you become aware of the car that’s about to hit you.

WHAM!!!

The car collided with your body and you tumbled over the car, being launched about eight feet into the air and landing on your head with a sickening crack. You could not feel anything, only being able to see blood coming out of the gash in your head, you also saw that your leg was twisted in a way that did not seem natural. Even then, you did not care, darkness was filling in the corners of your eyes; you could not form a coherent thought as you looked up at the sky, your mind still trying to catch up with what was going on. It took a moment to register in your mind, but even the you could not think anything. No one was coming to help you and the driver sped off in panic. Was this it for you? Was this your end after only twenty five years of life? Alone and dying in the middle of the street with nobody around to comfort you. Not even your parents.

Before you completely passed out, you could barely hear someone approaching you in your near unconscious state. But what was strange about the sound was that it sounded like the clip clop of hooves, not the light thud of feet. Strange indeed, but not that you could do anything about it in your current state. "Leroy," A familiar voice called out your name, but you could not deduce where exactly you heard it from. "I'm sorry things had to end like this. Don't worry, I will do everything I can to help you." Your body finally had enough, the darkness overtaking your vision and you finally fall unconscious.