Drip… drip…
Tick-tock… tick-tock
Beep beep beep… beep beep beep…
The alarm sounded as usual, 8 am sharp. The sunlight slipping through the curtain crack landed on my eyelids. Another fucking day… I thought as I groggily opened my eyes to brace the stained ceiling. I laid there for a minute, just letting the cool winter air shake off my drowsiness and tried my best to recall the dream that I had. But I couldn’t. All that was left is just a sensation that the dream is somehow better than this. Better than what I opened my eyes to —— My boring, all-the-same life.
Drip… drip…
Tick-tock… tick-tock
I swung my legs out of bed, snatched my wrinkled shirt and tie off a hook wedged into the wall and walked towards the bathroom. Trying hard to not let the hangover tilt my balance in this cramped hell hole of an apartment room. I really should quit drinking someday, I muttered under my breath as I veered myself through the scattered beer can all across the room. Wait till Veronica sees this. I chuckled. “This place is an utter mess, Henry”, she would say. Then the light smirk on my face dropped when I remembered all that will just forever be my hallucination as long as I’m still rotting in this disrepaired apartment.
Drip… drip…
Tick-tock… tick-tock
As I crossed the room, I shot the bucket at the centre of the room a sideway glance. As I’ve heard, the leakage in the roof had been here even before I started living here, they said the carpenter had come to fix it; nevertheless, it just keeps dripping all the same. “Just bear with it, lad.” The landlord had said, “you’ll get used to it.” Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t, I couldn’t know myself. I did eventually come to terms sometimes with the little men drumming on my eardrums through the help of opiates, yet once I’ve drank, the presence of the water dripping into the bucket would become vivid whenever the nauseousness of the alcohol took over that thin thread of sanity within me. Forever repeating…
Drip… drip… drip…
Tick-tock… tick-tock…
It was quarter past eight when I managed to get myself into a more appropriate shape and ready for work. With only minutes left for me to catch the bus at the bus stop some blocks away, I rushed out the creaky wooden door that feels like it’ll unhinge any second; then, down the ancient narrow staircase I went. The thumping sound of my footsteps shook the whole building. “HENRY! I FUCKING TOLD YOU NOT TO MAKE A FUSS GOING DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS, DICKHEAD!” I heard someone cussing in anger. It was probably my neighbour, Jacqueline, living in Room 4D, a stripper working at a nightclub in the city. She had never been a considerate neighbour anyway, more like a self centred brat I would say. I don’t blame her though, life certainly hasn’t been kind to us, and I certainly did not have the right to judge her; Since, this wasn’t the first time she had complained about me going down the stairs, and this certainly would not be the last.
Honk…honk…honk…
Huff… huff…
I sprinted towards the bus stop, the cold morning air biting at my face as I weaved through the throngs of early commuters. I pushed through the crowd and managed to squeeze onto the bus just before the doors closed. Found a spot near the back, clutching the overhead rail as the bus lurched forward. The familiar smell of exhaust and sweat filled my nostrils, mingling with the lingering nausea from my hangover. I closed my eyes, trying to steady myself as the bus jostled through the city streets. The passing scenery was just like those low resolution movies that’s forever on the roster. No one’s watching, yet forever playing at the same time, same place every single day. The tired face of people, monotonous buildings, telling one suffocating story after the other. Right that moment, a thought crossed my mind, I’m also a part of that story.
The bus came to a stop near my office building, and I shuffled off with the rest of the passengers. The towering glass and steel structure loomed over me, a monument to the monotony of my existence. I trudged through the revolving doors and into the lobby, where the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, adding to the sterile atmosphere. I made my way to my desk, a small cubicle in a sea of identical cubicles. The smell of stale coffee and printer ink permeated the air. The usual smell.
The sound of typing and chairs shuffling echoed around the room. No one looked up as I passed by, all emerged in their own glowing screen, absorbed in their own burden of workloads. I sat down at my desk, the chair creaking as I swerved towards the tabletop computer. The air was stiff, no one was talking, just simply typing away furiously as if it’s the only purpose they have known to serve. As the hours dragged on, I felt the weight of the day pressing down on me. The words on the screen blurred together, and I found myself staring blankly at the screen, my mind drifting.
Tap…tap…tap…
Creak… creak…
Tick-tock… tick-tock…
All of a sudden, a high pitched voice cut through the dense and stiff air. “ Henry! Come over for a second.” I looked up and came face to face with my manager, a plump woman in her fifties, always sporting vivid warm colour suits and strong flowery perfumes. Slowly, I rose from my chair, fidgeting my fingers behind my back as I made my way across the room towards her. The clicking of my shoes knocking on the office monotonous marble tiles synchronised with my heart beat, becoming faster as our distance enclosed. I didn’t know whether it was a sense of nervousness of facing a superior or excitement simply because something that wasn’t in my endless loop had appeared.
Silence stretched as she led me back to her office. There’s a gut feeling that what she’s about to say is not what I would be happy to hear. She was still silent after the door was shut, as if preparing herself for what’s going to happen. What the fucking hell is going on? I thought. The uncertainty of the situation slowly changed the tingling feeling I felt into a feeling of dread towards a change in the usual. I would’ve finished another analysis of a document by now. Yet I suppressed the frustration in my voice and spoke in a calm tone. “Mrs. Harper, is there perhaps something you would like to talk to me about? I’m all ears.”
A chuckle, a nervous laugh, and maybe a little shrug on the shoulders.
Tick-tock… tick-tock…
My voice seemed to bring her back to rationality, or perhaps it was the ticking time that reminded her to finish what she wanted to do in the first place. She looked up into my eyes and spoke in a firm voice that brought the beginning of my destruction. “I’m really sorry, Henry dear. The company has decided to do a layoff in order to change the work structure.” Her words left me in shock. I stood there, still and speechless. She came up and patted me on the back. She didn’t comfort me, and I’m glad she didn’t. It would only make me feel even more pathetic.
Tap…tap…tap…
Creak… creak…
Tick-tock… tick-tock…
I didn’t know how I left her office, or how I finished the handover with the HR department. Everything was in a daze, I probably asked for a reason for my layoff, I probably didn’t. I couldn’t know. The next thing I knew, I was already trudging along the bustling streets of the city. One step, two steps, three steps… Counting my steps in hopes that this can keep my mind off the event that just happened.
Hundred and twenty steps… Two hundred steps… three hundred and forty steps…
As the sun was setting, leaving its last mark through the cracks of the buildings, forming lines of orange glows on the pavement, I looked up from my trance. I ended up before the front doors of that glass and steel building that I have familiarised myself with for the past three years. The towering structure only looked ever more majestic than it was in my memory. Workers filed through the front doors. I stood there watching, seeing the grins on some of their faces, and tired expressions on others. They could be the next me. I moved, as if a puppet pulled by strings of habits. I walked back to the bus with that paper box in hand and off I went towards home on the next bus that pulled up. Just as I have done for the past three years.
Drip…drip…drip…
Tick-tock…tick-tock…
Miles from the apartment, these sounds somehow wedged itself into my mind. A reminder of what I’m returning to. My mind wandered as the movie before my eyes played in reverse. A life in reflection, going around in a Möbius loop. Except this time, the loop seems to have been broken, and this will be the last time I’m heading towards the ending. As the bus reached my stop, I pushed past the crowd as usual. Bought packs of beers and went back to my apartment. The same routine, the last loop. Hands tightened around the paper box, creating dents on the edges. Not for long, the familiar door appeared within my sight. With a sigh, I walked up the narrow staircase and stopped before the door.
Drip…drip…drip…
Tick-tock…tick-tock…
I flung myself onto my bed, head buried within the pillow. I did not cry, nor screamed. I just laid there, motionlessly, as if I were a dead man. It wasn’t always like this, I had times when I had dreams, when I could laugh at the uncertainty in life, but now? Now all that was left is fear toward the unknown, fearing the change in the routine that was built up, yet always not satisfied with life.
Drip…drip…drip…
Tick-tock…tick-tock…
I fished out my phone from my pocket and opened the text page with Veronica. Her image appeared within my mind, how her hair shone beneath the sunlight and that lively grin that was forever present on her face. I miss you, I’m sorry. I typed; However, my finger lingered upon the sent button and I stopped. This hell hole, Henry, you’re still rotting away. The phone slipped away from my hand, and landed faced down on the mattress. I felt like something slipped away with it, but I cannot quite grasp it into words. I gazed around the room, feeling the entrapment time and space had brought upon me; then, my sight landed on the packs of beer bought with the severance pay I got today.
Drip…drip…drip…
Tick-tock…tick-tock…
Clack…Gulp…Clack…Gulp…
I gulped down the can of beer I had within my hand. I already lost count of the number of cans I have drunk. The lights looked like they were dancing, and the floors partying with it.
Drip…drip…drip…drip…
“Ah, you’re drumming again, aren’t you?” I spoke aloud, chuckling lightly. Then, more bubbles appeared within my lungs. The chuckles grew from raspy breaths to a full fledged laugh. “What a party, innit?” I stood up, moving my limbs along with the rhythm, yet I screamed aloud the next moment. “WOULD YOU SHUT UP!!!” Madness glinting in my eyes. I swerved around the room, looking for those little men drumming on my eardrums. “IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, ALL THIS IS YOUR FUCKING FAULT!” My shouting fit continued on for like an eternity, till I ran out of breath and was gasping for air. The already cramped walls seemed to enclose even more, and the repeating sound continued to dance on my nerves the same as ever.
Chirp…chirp…chirp…chirp
All of a sudden, a melodic sound arose out of the systematic drummings, I looked around the room once again, and there it was, perched upon the tree branch that was just outside of my window —— a nightingale glowing within the night.
Chirp… chirp… chirp…
I staggered my way across to the window and stuck my face upon the glass. Right that second, our gaze met. There seemed to be magic with its song, for I couldn’t move my gaze. I looked at it, and for a second, I had this sensation that I am it. I am the bird that appeared outside of this rigid system of life. Blasts of colours seemed to explode around me. I was in the room for a second, then the next I was on that branch with the whole sky to explore. Where do I want to go? I asked myself. The warm south? The world in those fairytales, in those myths? A hearty laugh escaped my lips, “To the forest of freedom!” I shouted out loud. I was afloat, soaring within the air. The wind brushed past my wing as I took flight above the treetops, the mossy smells mingling with the scent of happiness.
Chirp… chirp… chirp…
Chirp… chirp… chirp…
Chirp… chirp… chirp…
It was a bubbly sensation that brought a smile upon my face. I was surrounded by flowers with the sun bathing me. Then, all of a sudden ——
Drip… drip…
Tick-tock… tick-tock…
Beep beep beep… beep beep beep…
I groggily opened my eyes, face to face with the same stained ceiling. Back to the beginning, I s’pose. I picked myself up from the ground and looked at the mess I’ve made; then, the thought crossed my mind. I remembered the dream! A smile crept its way upon my face from the bottom of my heart. The nightingale’s song, the flight to the forest. I turned to look out the window, towards the branch where it had perched last night. Yet, nothing was there. Nothing but the green leaves and branches and the bustling people going to work. Go back to sleep then, maybe I’ll find it there. Determination glinted within my eyes.
Drip… drip…
Tick-tock… tick-tock…
“Farewell to you, little men.” I bowed towards the bucket with an imaginary top hat in hand; then I smiled, and saw the opiates thrown upon the desk. Luckily I hadn’t flushed it down the drain. I thought to myself, water, I need water to swallow it with. I looked around the room, searching for any bottles of water that were lying around. That was when I saw it, a can of beer standing upright on the windowsill. Right in the place closest to where the nightingale had been, I smiled. It must have left the beer there for me!
Drip… drip…
Tick-tock… tick-tock…
Drip… drip…
Tick-tock… tick-tock…
Drip… drip…
Tick-tock… tick-tock…
Drip… drip…
Tick-tock… tick-tock…
Drip…drip……drip…
Tick-tock…tick-tock…tick-......
That morning, the sound of ticking clocks and the roof leakage drips continued. However, the door to apartment room 4C, the room right across from room 4D, was never opened at quarter past eight. The thumping footsteps down the stairs were never heard right after, and the clacking sound of beer cans was never heard…again.
