His thin drawn back face seemed to notify the fact that this man was quite old, however, his short, greasy, gelled back hair still had a hint of dark black left in his relatively grey hair.
At last the greasy haired man was ready to speak.
“Come on, now, Jack. I hear your feeling down. Well I can see your pain, try to get on your feet again.”
Jack didn’t respond at all to these comments however odd they seemed, he just sat there as still as ever before.
“Hello. Is there anybody out there? Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anyone at home?” Whispered the grinning waiter. “I know you want to let it all out.”
Still no sign of any reactions from Jack, but you could tell that deep down inside Jack’s carelessness he was becoming very frustrated.
Finally Jack had had enough. He went to swing his fist at the waiter next to him, and then all of a sudden as if someone had lifted a blanket from his head Jack opened his eyes to find himself staring at his war film again.
Jack was still sitting in his arm chair after six hours now. The room was still comfortably silent and Jack was very weary and unforgettably tired. Jack eventually decided to retire to his bed. He slowly slid out of his arm chair and crawled across his rough, dark blue carpet. As he reached the doorway to his bedroom he imaged the waiter again next to his bed standing to attention.
“Have you decided to call it a day sir?” the waiter said in a casual tone.
Jack then stooped up to get a closer look at the waiter but by the time he reached up to a closer viewing point the waiter had long vanished. Jack continued his struggle to get onto his bed. He felt like a led weight that just would not let him climb onto his soft resting place. Eventually Jack managed to get onto his bed and spread himself out into a star shaped signature across his mattress. His bedroom was quite light compared to the living room as he had his main light on coming from the roof. His bedroom to put it plain and simple was a mess. Bits of paper, empty packets, cigars and litter covered nearly every inch of the carpet. Plates left on the floor as well as empty bottles and glasses. Wine and beer stains also covered the bits of carpet that you could actually see.
Jack was running across an endless corridor, the whole commotion to him seemed to be in slow motion. He was running past rows upon rows of doors that seemed to lead to different rooms. The blank white floors and walls where creating an atmosphere of emptiness. Jack kept on running, but what from he did not know himself.
“Sir, Sir they are all waiting sir, for your appearance,” said a very low calm voice echoing through the corridor.
At last the corridor had ended all that stood in front of Jack now was a double door. ‘I must not be late’ Jack thought and rushed through the double doors.
An array of cheers, whistling, and clapping suddenly confronted Jack. He was inside a hall that was covered with seats and tables full of people in suits and dresses as if they were going to see an opera or a very important event. A red carpet sat in front of a smartly dressed Jack wearing a tuxedo suit, the carpet led to a stair case up to a carefully arranged stage where a man stood waiting for Jack and surprisingly enough it was the very waiter he saw at his hotel room. Jack waved his arm to the crowd and gave a thanking smile to the enthusiastic audience waiting for him to enter the stage. He walked confidently up the red carpet and threw another fist into the air for the crowd and this made the audience give an even louder cheer for Jack. Finally he reached the stairs and climbed them with ease and entered the stage beside the waiter.
“Give them all you’ve got sir, good crowd tonight,” the waiter said in an emotionless tone of voice, however he was smiling in a way.
Jack’s assistant also in a waiters suit gave Jack an unplugged lamp and then stated “You can start the show now sir” and then walked away to the side of the stage. Jack nodded. He seemed to know instinctively what to do with the lamp and hurled it across the stage and into the wall opposite, it shattered into peaces into the wooden staged floor. The crowd roared with cheers and encouragement Jack was sure he heard one person yelling ‘GO ON JACK, THERE’S A GOOD CHAP, JOLLY GOOD THROW’. His assistant then brought forth a bed onto stage and put beside it a wardrobe. Then he introduced a table right in front of Jack with around ten empty glasses stood on it. Jack nodded again and his assistant left for the side of the stage again.
Jack picked up a glass from the table and threw it with rage at the wardrobe the glass smashed across the wardrobe and fell in bits onto the floor. Jack screamed with a cry of desperation. The crowd at this point were simply cheering at a deafening level. Jack then went to confront the wardrobe and heaved it of the floor until he was holding it in mid air and then threw it towards the table full of glasses. There was a massive crash as the wardrobe drove full pelt into the table and glasses. The wardrobe lay there in peaces across the stage along with all the broken peaces of glass. Jack then up lifted the bed and started to kick it apart. After he had accomplished this he stood there on stage exhausted and took in a deep breath of air from the crazed audience and fainted onto the floor.
Chapter 2
Jack awoke on the floor of his destroyed bedroom. Not one single piece of furniture was intact. Jack was confused and dazed. He sat up. He gave a bright smile. He began to giggle and then he burst into an insane laugh. He got to his feet. He found the whole scenario quite funny. The waiter was standing in the doorway giving a smile as though he had achieved something great. Jack was stumbling with laughter around his bedroom. As soon as he saw the waiter however, he froze, his laughter changed into a silent stare across to the pale man.
“Maybe you could do with something to drink Jack” said the waiter in a demanding tone of voice, his lips hardly moved as he said this. Jack suddenly then moved into action completely ignoring the waiter and headed for his kitchen. His kitchen walls were covered in a lime green colour, as was his floor. The marble surface of his kitchen held a single glass of red wine. Jack stumbled half in a comer, in his bare feet across his kitchen to the glass of wine. He picked up the glass in a tight grasp (any harder and he would have broke the glass). Jack closed his eyes. He was at the hall again but this time he was sitting down at a table with the waiter. Crowds of people were sitting down eating at tables as well as Jack and the waiter. The flowers in the centre of the dinner table were blood red and seemed to have a red stem too.
“So, Jack do you want to leave?” said the waiter.
Jack nodded his head to confirm that he wanted to leave badly. Jacks face was as blank has it had been for the past 10 hours now.
“Erm, waiter could I have the lasondo please” the waiter exclaimed to another waiter in the same suit.
“Very good sir and anything for this gentleman here’ the other waiter nodded to Jack.
Jack just shuck his head and the other waiter left.
“The thing is Jack, I don’t want you to leave. It’s pleasant here. You have everything you could possibly want. I mean if you were to leave what would you do. You have no job, money, or any friends. Society has reached a stage where it does not want honest people like you. I mean come on, you did have a good job as an accountant and look back to how you got sacked. You got framed in a toilet for something you did not do. The syringe was left by someone else however ‘all the evidence pointed to you’ at the time. Your wife left you for another person and she left the country, what had you done to deserve all this. Now you can’t even afford to keep your own house because your wife took or should I say stole most of your money. So I say you stay with us. If you don’t I’m afraid I will have to insist that you do stay. You must, it’s only in your best interests. If you did walk out, you would become an outcast, a tramp, a loser, you would be named as a junky who abused his wife everywhere you went. You don’t want that surely. Think about it.” Said the waiter as the other waiter with food on a plate came to place it in front of him.
Jack then shook with fright. The other waiter had just served the waiter with a pumping heart drenched in blood. It was still pumping.
“There you are sir” said the other waiter.
“Thank very much Geoff” Said the waiter with a broad smile on his face.
“Tuck in eh? Jack” Said the waiter in a cheerful voice.
The waiter shoved his fork into the heart and blood oozed everywhere all over the table. The waiter eat a chunk as the blood smeared all over his mouth.
“CONSIDER IT” the waiter yelled across the table and slammed his fork into Jacks hand that was perched on the table.
Jack screamed and opened his eyes to find himself lying on his kitchen floor with shattered glass and red wine covered across the floor. A piece of glass was impaled into his hand. Jack was in incredible pain. He needed to find help fast.
Jack slowly crawled across the kitchen floor and dragged himself into the living room. The waiter was there beside the exit that lead outside of his hotel room. There was a trail of blood coming from the kitchen; ironically this was acting as the next train track out of his hotel room as Jack crawled for the door where the waiter stood smiling (as usual). He was nearly there however he had lost too much blood and had not got enough strength to stand up therefore he could not reach the handle.
“As I told you Jack, you can’t leave I’m afraid” the waiter pointed out.
This was the end for Jack, he was breathing very hard, the room was spinning and he was sweating in buckets (as well as bleeding in buckets).
Jack just uttered one single word to finish the script of a long, depressing night (and life) “Why”
Jack was dead, you could tell by the numb comfort of his body. Neither breathing nor no movement. He lay there in a pool of blood still pouring from his pierced hand.
Chapter 3
After a day or two the door gave way to the hotel manager and a few medics. They were instantly welcomed to the stench of Jacks dead body. The floor was now just stained with blood. Jacks eyes stared blankly as they did when he was alive into space.
“It’s no good people, we are too late, a day late by the looks of him” the medic said with his finger pressed against his neck looking for a pulse.
“I should have checked his room earlier” said the manager in a horrified tone.
“Business is bound to be low after this” exclaimed a worried manager again.
Five minutes later the ambulance arrived outside the hotel. The paramedics came rushing into the room with Jack’s body bag, they placed him inside the bag, zipped the bag up and that was the end of that.
*
A brand new door was opened to the very same hotel room a couple of months later to a man who seemed to be rushing against time. A busy man, yet very exhausted, he retired to his chair next to his TV set. He felt a sense of belonging and stayed sat there glued to the TV screen for the rest of the night and there he sat in his beloved chair again the following night completely ignoring the reality outside of his hotel room. He did not feel the need to leave just yet.
THE END
