The Red Card

"What the-", he reached for his chest. His heart thumped wildly. He clenched his heart as his vision blurred and he collapsed back onto the floor.

One dreary Monday evening, Rodriguez Reyes finally returned from his work day. His head and beard were covered in dirt and sweat. He couldn't wait to finally relax after the physical labor he did today. He pulled into his driveway with his 1997 Chevy Impala. It was barely holding together, the muffler had fallen off causing a loud crumbling sound when he drove. The windows were taped up due to a break in and the tires were starting to bald. But it got Rodriguez to point A and point B and that's all he needed. 

He slammed his car door shut, grabbed the mail, and headed inside to drink a beer. Ripping open the mail, a red card fluttered to the ground. Rodriguez reached down to grab it, his body telling him he just needed to relax after work.

 "Hmm what's this?"He looked over the red card to see nothing written on it. "Blank? i guess that's better than a bill" he sighed before tossing it in the trash. It has been a little over two months since he got the eviction notice. "WARNING, IF YOU DO NOT PAY THE RENT IN THE AMOUNT $554.70 BY AUGUST 3RD, 2019, YOU AND ALL YOUR POSSESSIONS WILL BE FORCEFULLY REMOVED FROM THE PREMISES!". Since that day, Rodriguez has been doing odd jobs around the city to try to provide for himself. Collecting trash, fixing appliances or doing other construction jobs were the main types of income he had. He had gotten himself in some trouble when he was younger and companies were not as forgiving as the U.S. government.

Rodriguez sat down in his dusty, burgundy recliner, a usual routine he would do after work.

Sighing, he opened up a beer, turned the TV on and prepared to take a nap after the long day of work. He was just starting to doze off to 'The Price is Right' when he saw something out of his peripherals on the T.V..

A red card, the same red card that was delivered in his mail this morning.

It laid flat upon one of the contestants' podiums. He rubbed his eyes, not believing what he was seeing. Just then, the contestant stared directly into the camera as if their piercing gaze was staring directly into Rodriguez's soul. The contestant, who was a middle-aged thirty-something balding man, grinned. A grin so wide it looked like his jaw would break if he smiled any wider.

"Open the card" its distorted voice commanded through Rodriguez's old television. "What the fuck", he grabbed his remote, shutting off his television. As the T.V. went black, the reflection of the red card he crumbled up and threw in the trash was now sitting neatly on his wooden table. He rubbed his eyes, grabbed his beer and headed towards his tiny bathroom.

"I'm working way too much. I'm actually hallucinating."

He opened the broken, shabby white door that led to his bathroom. He peeled off his black t-shirt that was stained with dirt from his previous job. He looked in the mirror, "im finally getting abs" he smirked to himself. He undid his belt, shrugged off his jeans and turned the faucet on to start his shower. The rickety shower was slow to warm-up. Grime coated the tiles in his shower and yellow stained the bottom of his tub.

Stepping into the shower, Rodriguez let the warm water soothe his aching muscles. His black, disheveled hair was now slicked back. He let the water glide over his burougly mustache as he closed his eyes to relish in the relaxing state.

"OPEN IT" the distorted voice screamed into his ear.

Startled, Rodriguez slapped his own ear, making his heels slip forward. He grabbed the curtain, ripping the rod straight out of the wall.

"Goddamnit!" his brown eyes darted around, looking around for any sort of explanation for what he heard. His chest heaved up and down until he managed to calm down and stand up. On wobbly feet, he stepped out of the bathtub onto the tiled floor.