My life was ruined.
Not just bad-day-at-work ruined or stub-your-toe-on-the-corner-of-the-bed ruined. No. This was real ruin. The kind where every waking moment reminds you that you don't matter. The world made sure of that.
Every. Single. Day.
I was nothing more than a speck in a sea of billions. A faceless nobody in a crowd of "important" people. A grain of sand buried under a mountain of others.
Why do I even bother anymore?
My dreams? Shattered.
My career? A sick joke.
The job I had spent years studying for, pouring every ounce of effort into, had chewed me up and spat me out like yesterday's trash. The job I had hoped would give my life meaning had done the exact opposite.
Thomald. That's my name. Thirty-eight years old, and I couldn't even tell you why I was born. What was the point of my existence? To be a punching bag for this world?
"HUH?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DIDN'T FINISH THE DOCUMENT?!"
The voice hit me like a whip crack, sharp and loud enough to make the office go silent. Everyone froze, their eyes darting anywhere but toward the source. My boss.
He stormed across the room, his face twisted in a way that made my stomach sink.
"I GAVE YOU ONE DAY TO FINISH IT!" he roared, his spit flying in all directions.
I swallowed hard, my hands trembling as I tried to muster a response. "S-Sir, please give me more time—"
I never got to finish.
Thwack!
His leather shoe smashed into my face, the force of it throwing me backward. My head slammed against the cold, unyielding wall, and for a second, everything went white.
Pain blossomed across my skull, radiating down to my neck. My vision blurred, but I could just make out the crimson streaks that dripped from my lips onto the pristine office floor.
Cough.
The taste of blood filled my mouth as I tried to catch my breath. My chest heaved, but no air seemed to come.
And him? He just stood there, towering over me, his lips curling into the kind of smile that made my skin crawl.
It wasn't a smile of amusement. No, it was something darker. Something twisted.
A metallic clink broke through the haze of pain.
I blinked, focusing on the small, glinting object he had thrown at my feet.
A coin.
A damn 25-cent coin.
"Pick it up, you disgusting creature," he sneered, his tone dripping with contempt.
I stared at it, my body trembling as humiliation burned through me like wildfire. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to resist, to stand up and walk away.
But I couldn't.
I knew what would happen if I defied him.
With a shaky hand, I reached out toward the coin, my fingers hovering just above its cold surface.
Bam!
His shoe came down hard, crushing my hand beneath it.
"AGH!" The scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. Pain shot up my arm, white-hot and unbearable.
I barely had time to process the agony before he lifted his foot and slammed it into my ribs, sending me sprawling against the wall again.
Thud!
My body hit the ground like a sack of bricks, the impact knocking the wind out of me. I gasped for air, each breath a struggle as sharp, stabbing pain radiated from my side.
I curled in on myself, clutching my broken hand to my chest. Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall.
Above me, he loomed like a vengeful god, his shadow swallowing me whole. He's worse than a monster. Satan would look like a saint standing next to him.
And yet, somehow, this wasn't even the worst of it.
No, the worst part wasn't the kicks or the insults.
It was her.
My wife. Or rather, his wife now.
I could still hear her voice in my head, sharp and cruel. "Don't waste any more time on that freak," she had said, her lips curling into a smirk. "Use it all on me~."
Her words had cut deeper than any wound.
My stomach churned at the memory, my hands balling into weak, useless fists.
She had been my everything. My reason to keep going. And she had thrown me away like I was nothing.
Why?
Why did I deserve this?
What had I done to end up here?
"You slut… You still want more of me?" His voice snapped me back to reality, pulling me out of my spiral.
I looked up, my vision still swimming from the pain. He was already heading toward his office, her giggles trailing after him like a sick melody.
"Oh, darling~," she cooed, sliding her hands down his chest and lower. Much lower.
My stomach turned.
I wanted to scream. To yell. To do something. Anything.
But I didn't.
I just sat there, broken and defeated.
"THOMALD!" His voice rang out again, sharp and commanding.
I flinched, forcing myself to look up.
"You can go home," he said, waving me off like I was some kind of nuisance.
Home.
The word felt foreign. I hadn't been "allowed" to go home in days, maybe weeks.
Usually, I was stuck here. Working non-stop, day after day. No breaks. No rest. Just endless misery.
I stepped out of the building, my feet dragging against the uneven pavement as the world outside greeted me with its usual indifference.
The sun was shining, but it felt muted somehow, like even the universe couldn't be bothered to acknowledge my existence properly. My eyes were dull, lifeless—like a hollowed-out shell of someone who used to be alive.
What happened to me?
I didn't used to be this way. My childhood was great. I had a loving family, friends who made life exciting, and a future so bright it felt like nothing could ever dim it. High school? A breeze. University? Even better. I graduated with honors, full of hope and ambition. I thought the world was mine for the taking.
And yet, here I was, trudging through life like a zombie, with nothing to show for all those years of hard work.
When did it all go so wrong?
If I could meet God right here, right now, I'd grab Him by the collar and demand answers.
"Why is my life like this?" I'd scream. "What did I do to deserve this?"
But deep down, I already knew the answer.
He wouldn't listen. He wouldn't even bother to respond.
I used to be a religious man. I prayed every day, went to church every Sunday without fail. I believed there was some grand plan for me, that all the struggles I faced were just stepping stones toward something greater.
But now?
Now, I wasn't so sure.
No matter how hard I tried to change my life, it always felt like I was swimming against an endless current, getting nowhere. If I'd chosen a different path—studied something else, taken another job—would things have been different?
Would I have been happy?
The thought alone made my chest ache.
Too late now, I told myself. What's done is done.
I stuffed my hands into my pockets and kept walking, my mind swirling with the "what-ifs" and regrets that had become all too familiar. It was a suffocating loop, one I couldn't seem to escape no matter how hard I tried.
"Hey! Watch out!"
The sudden shout snapped me out of my thoughts. I blinked, realizing three high school kids were pointing at me, their faces a mix of panic and alarm.
"Huh?" I muttered, turning to see what the fuss was about.
Thunk!
A shadow passed over me, and instinctively, I looked up.
It happened in an instant.
A flower vase hurtling through the air, spinning wildly as it fell from a balcony several stories above. Time seemed to slow down as I stared at it, my brain struggling to process what was happening.
Is that... a vase?
The absurdity of it all struck me first. Of all the things that could possibly happen to me, this was the most ridiculous.
Then came the fear.
Before I could move, before I could even think of dodging, the vase collided with my head.
Crack!
Pain. Blinding, searing pain exploded in my skull, cutting through me like a bolt of lightning. My legs gave out beneath me, and I crumpled to the ground as the world around me dissolved into chaos.
Blood pooled beneath me, warm and sticky against the cold concrete. I tried to breathe, but it felt like my chest was being crushed under the weight of the universe itself.
I reached up instinctively, my trembling fingers brushing against my forehead.
Something wet.
Something... soft.
My vision blurred as I realized what it was.
My brain.
The realization sent a wave of panic coursing through me, but my body was already failing. My limbs felt heavy, my thoughts sluggish, like I was sinking into a dark, endless abyss.
The kids screamed. I could hear their voices, faint and distant, like they were coming from another world.
"Call an ambulance!" one of them shouted.
"He's not gonna make it!" another cried.
No kidding, I thought bitterly, my lips twitching into a weak, humorless smile.
As the darkness closed in, my life flashed before my eyes. The happy memories, the painful ones, the regrets, and the dreams that never came true—they all played out like a broken reel of film.
And then... silence.
But if...
If I had another chance...
If I could go back, start over...
I wouldn't waste it.
I'd live properly this time.
But the harsh truth was, second chances weren't real.
Not for someone like me.
Not just bad-day-at-work ruined or stub-your-toe-on-the-corner-of-the-bed ruined. No. This was real ruin. The kind where every waking moment reminds you that you don't matter. The world made sure of that.
Every. Single. Day.
I was nothing more than a speck in a sea of billions. A faceless nobody in a crowd of "important" people. A grain of sand buried under a mountain of others.
Why do I even bother anymore?
My dreams? Shattered.
My career? A sick joke.
The job I had spent years studying for, pouring every ounce of effort into, had chewed me up and spat me out like yesterday's trash. The job I had hoped would give my life meaning had done the exact opposite.
Thomald. That's my name. Thirty-eight years old, and I couldn't even tell you why I was born. What was the point of my existence? To be a punching bag for this world?
"HUH?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DIDN'T FINISH THE DOCUMENT?!"
The voice hit me like a whip crack, sharp and loud enough to make the office go silent. Everyone froze, their eyes darting anywhere but toward the source. My boss.
He stormed across the room, his face twisted in a way that made my stomach sink.
"I GAVE YOU ONE DAY TO FINISH IT!" he roared, his spit flying in all directions.
I swallowed hard, my hands trembling as I tried to muster a response. "S-Sir, please give me more time—"
I never got to finish.
Thwack!
His leather shoe smashed into my face, the force of it throwing me backward. My head slammed against the cold, unyielding wall, and for a second, everything went white.
Pain blossomed across my skull, radiating down to my neck. My vision blurred, but I could just make out the crimson streaks that dripped from my lips onto the pristine office floor.
Cough.
The taste of blood filled my mouth as I tried to catch my breath. My chest heaved, but no air seemed to come.
And him? He just stood there, towering over me, his lips curling into the kind of smile that made my skin crawl.
It wasn't a smile of amusement. No, it was something darker. Something twisted.
A metallic clink broke through the haze of pain.
I blinked, focusing on the small, glinting object he had thrown at my feet.
A coin.
A damn 25-cent coin.
"Pick it up, you disgusting creature," he sneered, his tone dripping with contempt.
I stared at it, my body trembling as humiliation burned through me like wildfire. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to resist, to stand up and walk away.
But I couldn't.
I knew what would happen if I defied him.
With a shaky hand, I reached out toward the coin, my fingers hovering just above its cold surface.
Bam!
His shoe came down hard, crushing my hand beneath it.
"AGH!" The scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. Pain shot up my arm, white-hot and unbearable.
I barely had time to process the agony before he lifted his foot and slammed it into my ribs, sending me sprawling against the wall again.
Thud!
My body hit the ground like a sack of bricks, the impact knocking the wind out of me. I gasped for air, each breath a struggle as sharp, stabbing pain radiated from my side.
I curled in on myself, clutching my broken hand to my chest. Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall.
Above me, he loomed like a vengeful god, his shadow swallowing me whole. He's worse than a monster. Satan would look like a saint standing next to him.
And yet, somehow, this wasn't even the worst of it.
No, the worst part wasn't the kicks or the insults.
It was her.
My wife. Or rather, his wife now.
I could still hear her voice in my head, sharp and cruel. "Don't waste any more time on that freak," she had said, her lips curling into a smirk. "Use it all on me~."
Her words had cut deeper than any wound.
My stomach churned at the memory, my hands balling into weak, useless fists.
She had been my everything. My reason to keep going. And she had thrown me away like I was nothing.
Why?
Why did I deserve this?
What had I done to end up here?
"You slut… You still want more of me?" His voice snapped me back to reality, pulling me out of my spiral.
I looked up, my vision still swimming from the pain. He was already heading toward his office, her giggles trailing after him like a sick melody.
"Oh, darling~," she cooed, sliding her hands down his chest and lower. Much lower.
My stomach turned.
I wanted to scream. To yell. To do something. Anything.
But I didn't.
I just sat there, broken and defeated.
"THOMALD!" His voice rang out again, sharp and commanding.
I flinched, forcing myself to look up.
"You can go home," he said, waving me off like I was some kind of nuisance.
Home.
The word felt foreign. I hadn't been "allowed" to go home in days, maybe weeks.
Usually, I was stuck here. Working non-stop, day after day. No breaks. No rest. Just endless misery.
I stepped out of the building, my feet dragging against the uneven pavement as the world outside greeted me with its usual indifference.
The sun was shining, but it felt muted somehow, like even the universe couldn't be bothered to acknowledge my existence properly. My eyes were dull, lifeless—like a hollowed-out shell of someone who used to be alive.
What happened to me?
I didn't used to be this way. My childhood was great. I had a loving family, friends who made life exciting, and a future so bright it felt like nothing could ever dim it. High school? A breeze. University? Even better. I graduated with honors, full of hope and ambition. I thought the world was mine for the taking.
And yet, here I was, trudging through life like a zombie, with nothing to show for all those years of hard work.
When did it all go so wrong?
If I could meet God right here, right now, I'd grab Him by the collar and demand answers.
"Why is my life like this?" I'd scream. "What did I do to deserve this?"
But deep down, I already knew the answer.
He wouldn't listen. He wouldn't even bother to respond.
I used to be a religious man. I prayed every day, went to church every Sunday without fail. I believed there was some grand plan for me, that all the struggles I faced were just stepping stones toward something greater.
But now?
Now, I wasn't so sure.
No matter how hard I tried to change my life, it always felt like I was swimming against an endless current, getting nowhere. If I'd chosen a different path—studied something else, taken another job—would things have been different?
Would I have been happy?
The thought alone made my chest ache.
Too late now, I told myself. What's done is done.
I stuffed my hands into my pockets and kept walking, my mind swirling with the "what-ifs" and regrets that had become all too familiar. It was a suffocating loop, one I couldn't seem to escape no matter how hard I tried.
"Hey! Watch out!"
The sudden shout snapped me out of my thoughts. I blinked, realizing three high school kids were pointing at me, their faces a mix of panic and alarm.
"Huh?" I muttered, turning to see what the fuss was about.
Thunk!
A shadow passed over me, and instinctively, I looked up.
It happened in an instant.
A flower vase hurtling through the air, spinning wildly as it fell from a balcony several stories above. Time seemed to slow down as I stared at it, my brain struggling to process what was happening.
Is that... a vase?
The absurdity of it all struck me first. Of all the things that could possibly happen to me, this was the most ridiculous.
Then came the fear.
Before I could move, before I could even think of dodging, the vase collided with my head.
Crack!
Pain. Blinding, searing pain exploded in my skull, cutting through me like a bolt of lightning. My legs gave out beneath me, and I crumpled to the ground as the world around me dissolved into chaos.
Blood pooled beneath me, warm and sticky against the cold concrete. I tried to breathe, but it felt like my chest was being crushed under the weight of the universe itself.
I reached up instinctively, my trembling fingers brushing against my forehead.
Something wet.
Something... soft.
My vision blurred as I realized what it was.
My brain.
The realization sent a wave of panic coursing through me, but my body was already failing. My limbs felt heavy, my thoughts sluggish, like I was sinking into a dark, endless abyss.
The kids screamed. I could hear their voices, faint and distant, like they were coming from another world.
"Call an ambulance!" one of them shouted.
"He's not gonna make it!" another cried.
No kidding, I thought bitterly, my lips twitching into a weak, humorless smile.
As the darkness closed in, my life flashed before my eyes. The happy memories, the painful ones, the regrets, and the dreams that never came true—they all played out like a broken reel of film.
And then... silence.
But if...
If I had another chance...
If I could go back, start over...
I wouldn't waste it.
I'd live properly this time.
But the harsh truth was, second chances weren't real.
Not for someone like me.
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