Everyone has a routine one way or another. I wake up at 6:52 AM
exactly everyday. I then lay out my clothes for the day. I prefer a
size small black T-shirt without and graphic or design, 32x32 blue
worn out jeans and cotton white socks. I then take a shower I stay
in fifteen minutes; twenty five if I am washing my my hair and have
When I get out of the shower I brush my teeth, flosh, and follow
up with two brands of mouthwash. As I put on my towel to dry off
I drink my Tea which I had prepared beforehand. It helps remove
the taste of the mouthwash. As I make my way back to my bedroom I
make myself a glass of water to drink as I get dressed.
Next I put on my laptop and check any missed mail in my sleep.
There is usually nothing worth noticing: A friends birthday
invite to the local bar, Drama between two ex friends fighting
over the same man, Some attempt to say philosophical whispers,
but end up looking like spoiled and sheltered brats, and my
personal favorite: Watching how people react to simple statements
as if it were against the word of god.
When I am done with this I put on my laid out clothes for the day
and spray myself with my favorite cologne. I am ready; ready to
start my day now that my morning ritual has begun. As I walk to
the bus stop I pick up my daily pack of cigarettes and make the
small talk with the stores employees. I know that smoking is a
bad habit, but it helps me in setting in my mask; my appearence
of a normal person.
I do not drive so I take the bus to work. I do this because I
know myself; I know what would happen if I did: I would become
lazy. I got a job at a local retailer and it has its ups and
downs like any other job. My coworkers are nice enough, no one
does anything worth noticing. I am polite and soft spoken,
contrary to my true self.
No, that wouldn't be correct, since even I don't know who my true
self is. My days are filled with enate word and body play with my
customers and coworkers. I often visualize dismembering them: it
helps the day go by. When my shift is over I check my phone and
see if my girlfriend has called or sent me any messages. She is a
nice girl, christen, and comes from a good family.
I think she think's if she holds on to me long and hard enough I
can change. But, you can not change how someone is; even more so
how they were born. I keep my silence and let her believe what
she wants. I go with her to her friends and families events, I
have sex with her when she wants it. I tell her I love and in a
sense I do, but not in the sense most would think. I equate it
equal to loving your favorite kind of pen.
In the end she just helps with adorning my mask with better
jewels. They are all props for a character I thought up on a
whim. When I am finally able to make my way home and wind down
before the set of my next ritual I get undressed and throw my
clothes into my dirty laundry bin. I have another cup of tea and
make something to eat, usually something light like fruit or a
salad. It will give me energy and not weigh me down when I
After my meal I do the dishes and see if any thrash needs to be
taken out as I throw out the rest of my of cigarettes. When
everything is taken care of I begin my my ritual again. Though,
this ritual is a bit different than the first. I open my closet
and remove the false back I have given it when I bought this
house. Some people make hidden cellars, some make dry wall
cutouts. I myself prefer the simpler methods;they work
I remove a suitcase from the closet and set it on my bed. I put
in the lock code and thumbprint needed to open it. Staring into
the contents of the suitcase I always find myself in deep
thought. How have I gotten this far? How has no one been able to
stop me? What would hell be for someone like and even more so
what would heaven be? What were to happen if those who thought
they knew me found out everything about me? Would they accept me
or would they run in fear?
My train of thought is halted and I am forced back into reality.
The roar of the crowd fills my house and smell of blood and meed
come with it. The sound of metal slicing against metal and bone
crash through the air as well. This is it; This is what I wait
for every night. This is the reason why I pretend to be who I am
and have my set of rituals. Everything is for this exact
It appears in front of me; my door. ζωή is engraved in the center
of it; the dried blood on the door only makes it look more
divine. The word means life In greek and it is exactly that which
it gives me. It gives me what nothing here in this world can; it
gives me life. And, just as quickly as it appears this door of
life opens infront of me. Drowning me in the light of its world
and sounds. I am ready.
| Email this Novel
| Add to reading list