The Dividing Line

    Chapter1 

I was miserable at home. So, I left, and I was still miserable. However, I felt somewhat better knowing that everything I had, I earned myself. Before I reached 'The Big Apple' I was stuck in the rural countryside of Ireland. No friends to hang out with and a family whom I despised.

Six years later I had two friends, the most tedious job any human has ever been subjected to, and a dream, or rather, an obsession. In the build up to Christmas last year, the city was bitter. I was in a particularly bad spot as the shitty little apartment I was living in had appalling insulation. The walls were bare and lifeless, as if I was in mental hospital. Sometimes I felt as though I was.

It was the last week before I got some time off work and I, as usual, was sitting at my desk pretending to work but researching ancient Egyptian burial sites. My boss came over.

'Have you completed the filing yet Stanley?' he said turning his nose up at me.

'No.'

'When will it be done then?'

'It'll be done when it's done sir.' I got another warning for that. That was my second in two weeks. One more and I was history.

I always ate alone at lunch. Sometimes I'd eat with Sophie if she's in at that point. She's usually late, being the daughter of the company head will get you those privileges. On this particular day, she was just arriving in and I was sitting at my usually table in the canteen. Bed-head and minimal make-up. The way she prefers it.

'Hey Stan, what's up?'

'Second warning. One to go now.'

'Do you want to get fired or something?' she said. 'What's your problem?'

'I don't care, alright. I'm sick of it.'

'Sick of what?' she said. 'It's an easy job and you get paid for it.'

'I'm sick of not been important. If I was to get fired they'd just hire somebody else and nothing would change. They'd replace me with another robot just like the rest of them in there.' I always did hate my co-workers. No personalities, just faceless humans. They do whatever they're told like the obedient slaves that they are.

'Well, I'm not a robot' she said. 'I have fun every night of the week.'

'It's not fun it's promiscuous. A waste of time in my opinion.'

'Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.'

'John Lennon. Not bad.'

'Any plans this weekend?' she said.

'Same as every weekend.'

'No plans then.'

'Not one.'

I didn't care though. I've never needed friends to prevent myself from being bored. I find it amazing that people would prefer listening to what other people's brains have to say rather than listening to their own.

On the way home my dad tried to contact me. I don't know how he got my number but I had to change it. Again. I left home for a reason. I told him I never wanted to see him again. After constantly degrading me every day of my life, he expects me to come running back to him just like my mam did. I didn't answer the phone but it ruined my mood slightly.

I picked up some Chinese for dinner because I'd starve before cooking myself a meal. I passed a homeless man sleeping under a railway bridge. It's sad. I'm sure he had dreams just like the rest of us, but for whatever reason he didn't achieve them and he never will. I suppose that's the way it has to be. In order for some people to get ahead, others must fall behind.