Slipping

Have you ever felt something slip through your fingers? Slowly, things just seem to fall around you and they're impossible to catch.In a way you feel like a ghost and the words tumbling out of your mouth mean nothing at all. I guess that's what happened to me. I was a ghost of my former self and everything turned to drops of rain slowly falling through my hands. There was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

I was a man. I was 28. I had a dead end job, that brought in good money, but no satisfaction. I had no love or friendship. I wasn't unhappy, I was just bored.

He was 35. He was a man. We worked together and he had it all. He was the company owners son and he was making his way to the top. At every corporate gathering we had he brought his wife. He'd stand there telling stories about yacht rides and late night dinner parties with imported wines. Everyone laughed when he told a joke, no matter how stupid. I laughed with them. His wife would crawl all over him giggling about everything. When someone else said anything she gave them a look as if they were mad. To say the least, she was a bitch. She was 22 and his second wife. He married her soon after his first wife died. I know he was the perfect one because so many people envied him. They would never know.

One night after a party at work, I followed him home. I kept a safe distance so he couldn't see my face. Not that he'd be able to identify me anyway. When he finally pulled into his driveway and went inside, I quickly retrieved my gloves, handkerchief, and gun. I put on the gloves and wiped my gun and bullets clean. Slowly, I pulled myself out of my car and snuck around the back of the house. I tried every window on the back of the house but they were locked, I tried the back door but it too was locked. Now, I was pissed. I grabbed a rock and in one swift motion broke a window on the back door and let myself in. Seconds later I heard harsh whispers, feet falling to the ground and the scraping of a bat on wood floor. I met him in the kitchen and before he could utter one word, I pulled the trigger. I dropped the gun and ran out the front door. Quickly I got in my car and drove away. Now, one day later, I'm wondering how to let them know it was me, but still run free. I called the police and filed a missing persons claim on myself. I told them my address and said I haven't seen him in over a week. They told me they'd be there in an hour. As I'm packing my suitcase, I decide I'm going to France. I get in my car and drive as fast as I can to the airport and get on the first plane out of England.

With my fifth job, I'm in the same place, working with the bosses son, planning where to go.