It's Just a Bad Day

He never thought of himself as a bad person. He never thought of himself as a victim. But one day...

It had been a bad day at work. His boss had actually yelled at him - he had never heard his boss yell at anyone. Strictly speaking it was not his fault. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and everyone's mistakes landed in his lap all at the same time so that the boss thought he was just useless - and told him so. It would cost the company a lot of money, it will probably cost him his job. He couldn't wait to get out of there and get home and get away from it all. The train was late, naturally. He glumly trudged out of the station with all the other commuters to the car park but while they all got to their cars and headed for home there was just an empty space where he had left his car. He looked around, he checked. Yes, this was where he left it. It was gone. Not his car. He loved that car. It was like his life partner, but it had now been abducted.

He walked home, an hour and a half it took to get to his street. By which time he was ready just to slump into bed and forget that today had ever happened. But as he neared his house he could see something was not right. A window was broken - curtains waved at him with no glass to hold them in anymore. The front door was wide open, through which he could see a mess of destruction inside. He stumbled in over the remains of his possessions. He didn't have much, but anything he had of value was gone. His neighbor saw or heard nothing. The police, who came after he called could do nothing. He looked at what was left - nothing.

He couldn't stay in the house, it didn't feel like his anymore. He didn't have anyone he could stay with as any friends or family had lost touch while he concentrated on work. His car was the closest he had to a friend and it was gone. He felt helpless, angry, alone. He felt the same way he did when he was randomly punched in the face at school by some meat head who needed to show his physical prowess by beating up a defenseless nerd. Or when he had to find some out if the way part of school to secretly spend lunch time when he heard that the alpha male of the school didn't like the way breathed.

So he just walked.

And walked.

He walked along grinding his teeth in anger. Then walked along with tears streaming down his face. Then walking along kicking garbage cans as he returned to anger again.

After walking himself almost to exhaustion he came to an all night service station and collected himself together enough to stumble inside for a drink. Just as he was handing over his money he was roughly pushed aside as a balaclavaed thug pointed a gun at the head of the attendant and demanded all his money. He was cowering next to the drinks fridge when the gun swung around towards him with the words, "and you will stay down if you know what's good for you".
When the gun swung back away from him everything he had experienced that day resulted in a peak of anger and adrenaline that saw him quickly grab a nearby oil container that was on display and swing it at the thug's head yelling "not tonight".
The thug fell, letting out a shot from his gun that went straight up into the ceiling, while on his way to the floor catching his head on a display shelf opening a gash in the side of his head from which his life would bleed away.

Silence.

"I think you've killed him", the attendant shakily exclaimed.

"No... but... I... ", he didn't know what to do. He was confused. The day he has had, and now this. He grabbed the thug's gun and ran out into the night.

He ran.

His body was now running on pure adrenaline but he couldn't run much further. He fell to his knees, sobbing, leaned forward and rested his forehead on the gun that he still tightly gripped.
"This can't be happening... this isn't my life... it's just a bad day".
Tears and snot fell onto the gun as he heard sirens in the distance.
"No", he cried.
Then he heard something else. It was the sound of breaking glass along with mischievous teenage laughter. He got up and slowly investigated the new noise. He found three teenage boys in the process of wrecking an abandoned car, aside from the broken headlights and windows and lack of wheels a familiar looking car, his car, his precious, lovely, lost and now wrecked pride and joy.
They could just make him out in the darkness, "What do you want?"
"That car..."
"What about it?" one boy angrily asked, "Some dorky nerd didn't deserve a sweet ride like this. It aint so sweet now".
"Yeah, we got some great stuff from his house too."
"Don't deserve?" he yelled with a voice from hell, "You don't deserve..."
As he pointed the gun at them and just kept pulling the trigger. Firing until it wouldn't fire no more and he collapsed in a sobbing heap on the ground a wreck of a man in front of his blood spattered, glass shattered, wrecked car.