Awakening

So there I am, pissing away all this money at some simple game where you throw a dime into a random hole
and if you are lucky you get your dime back.

"Why is he doing this?" you might be asking yourself. Hell, you might be asking who the fuck I am.

Well, you see, I am no one in particular. Well, I was until about a week ago. A week ago I was just
another white collar desk working man. I would go to work at nine and sit in a cubical for hours processing
numbers. This was the only odd thing about my life back then. Me, a man who had to take algebra
in high school three fucking times. What am I doing with my life counting numbers for some company that,
to tell the truth, I did not know what we did? All I did was make sure the first number divided by the second
number was not larger than the last number. If it was I wrote the section down and put it in a file and that's it.
No one came and got the file, it just sat their with the others. Five years worth of files that no one would look
at.

At noon I got up and went to lunch. It was always at noon and always on the second "coocoo" from the unknown
man that shared the cell-... Cubical next to me. I would get up and walk out the left door. Never the right; The
right was for entering never exiting. I would sit in the back of the lunch room to the left. I always had the same
lunch back then. Ham and cheese on whole wheat bread, an apple, and a coke. I was a grown adult, yet I was still
eating the same lunch that kids are eating in elementary schools.

After I ate, I would go through the door to the right and get back to work. The only other thing that would
take me away from my work was a quick bathroom break at two-thirty. As you can tell, I wasn't a very popular person
at my work. Just like school, I kept to my self. It was my work ethic that kept me from being social, I guess.
My father always told me that your work represents your life, so I worked my best so people would know my life
was the best. It wasn't. When I would go home to my empty one-bedroom apartment at five-thirty, I would sit and
watch TV or read a book until I got tired and went to bed around nine-fifteen usually, but here's were my life
changed as I mentioned earlier.

Last week I awoke at nine which was the time I need to be at work. I look at my alarm clock, but it was not there.
I search my room, but found nothing. I thought it would be odd if I was robbed and they just took my clock.
So I rushed and got to work at nine-thirty. For the first time, my boss, whose face until that time I had only seen once
when he introduced himself at the time he was hired two years ago, was in my face yelling at me for being late.
I punched him in the face. Well, it was not me, it was like an out-of-body experience. I watched myself do it, but I
wasn't there to do it. I hit him in the jaw, snapping it like a wishbone. He was laid out on the floor. His jaw hit all
the way to the right. He wasn't dead, I just knocked him out. I went to my desk and took the files. The files of my misery
and wasted life. I remembered after picking up the first stack that my whole life in this working hell was just a waste.
No one cared if I died or lived. Hell, my job was probably so that they had enough people, so no one wold get suspicious of
what they were really doing. (I found out later after I left my job that they sold crack cocaine to the middle east).
I took the files and piled them around my passed out boss. As I was doing this, people kept trying to stop me.
It was funny because no one really knew my name. They tried though, I guess that counts. After all the files were
around him, I lit a match and watched that fucker burn. It was about this time that people ran from the building,
and it was about this time that I robbed the safe that my boss had under his desk. You learn a lot after five years.
I ran out of the building. The fire was growing and it had started to spread to the cubical.

That was a week ago, and I haven't been caught yet. Now I'm gambling this money, because I don't know what else to do.