Story | Breathe - Chapter One

sebastian-jacobs (47)in #fiction • 7 years ago (edited)

Chapter 1

"Breathe." he muttered to himself, staring at the empty abyss of static produced by the television, from across the room. His eyes shift to small specks of dirt and hairline scratches, scattered around his pristine white counter top. "I must clean these, I cannot stand the filth." he said to himself in a calm, almost psychotic voice. He stood up to get a clean cloth, hung up on one of the handles of the cupboard. He swiftly, but gently took the cloth off the handle, and moved back to the counter top. He put the cloth down gently, and soon after, rolled up his sleeves. It was a lavishing white button up. Buttons so white, as if they were made of eternal snow, and the collar so firm, as if he had placed metal plates within them. He grabbed the cloth and started to move his hand back and forth, focusing on all the little specks of dirt that he saw.

He seemed acceptant of the cleaning he had done, and had walked to the kitchen sink to rinse the cloth. He soaked the cloth, and made sure every drop was squeezed out before placing it back on the cupboard handle. He sat back down on his bar chair, placed next to the countertop. He sat in a pause for a brief moment, focusing now only on the minor sounds being produced by his surroundings. He looked to the clock on the wall and heard the consistent ticks, as the seconds passed, and an off tempo drip, from the kitchen sink that he had not closed properly, almost being flooded by the static dissonance, as if it was a demented symphony, leading towards a climax nobody was ready for. He picked up the Sunset Rum sitting at the end of the countertop, and dragged it towards him, as well as his already used crystal glass.

His surroundings now became quiet, as he focused only on the rum hitting the bottom of his glass, merging with the little bit that was left, and splashing the half melted ice, gently against the sides of the glass. Creating small whirlpools as he swirls his glass, before completely downing everything. He gently placed the glass down, with a faint resonating sound from the glass vibrating. He shifted both the rum bottle and his crystal glass to the back of the counter with his two fingers. He sat in silence, everything was blocked out from entering his headspace, other than a faint constant ring. He put his elbows on the countertop, and shifted his weight forward, leaning on his arms, with his hands running through his hair. He gripped tightly to the locks of hair he had intertwined with his fingers and in a shaky voice, said once again, "breathe." He looked at the crystal glass for a moment, and with one swift movement, he stood up - making the bar chair fall over - grabbed the crystal glass and threw it against the wall. He let out a scream of agonizing, but menacing pain. He cleared his face, as if he had switched off all emotion, and said in a monotone voice, "If I lose, everybody loses."

To be continued...

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