Exstinguising dreams

Eight hours a day he spent in this hell-hole, eight arduous, mind numbing and soul destroying hours. With each hour he felt closer to death. As the second hand creaked round painfully as if being held back by Nazi work-demons, Matt felt his sanity ebbing further and further away. This was no life for someone so creative; human beings were never intended to live like this: trapped inside a metaphorical cage; a mortgage, wife and kids and a futile need to indulge in the latest consumables, were far more effective than iron bars and electric fencing. His sister Eleanor, his closest of five siblings, was always intimating how he should quit. She admonished how his efforts were laudable but ultimately he was killing himself, was that a price he was willing to pay just to retain the lifestyle his wife expected? 11

Day in and day out, overtime, cover shifts, Christmas eve, Christmas day, New Years eve, Easter, evenings, twilight shifts, split shifts, the list goes on. Matt was literally working himself to the bone; sleeping less than four hours a day; arriving at work earlier and earlier and finishing later and later. It had to be this way if he wished to attain the promotion that had for so long eluded him. His boss, the sadistic bastard, had been promising it to him for years. This year it would be his, he had worked a 50 hour week for the last 6 months. Volunteered for all the jobs other senior staff members felt they were too important to do. He had done everything short of getting on his knees and opening wide. That being said, he sometimes felt that might be a less painful way of getting what he was after. He would waltz into the board room, drop his pants and take a corporate cockshafting resulting in instant progression up the hierarchy.22

In reality; the promotion was his wife’s idea. In fact self examination would prove that 99% of what he did and said was a by-product of his wife’s officious personality. He had been a tree surgeon, working the great out-doors. He was self-employed, his own boss; had a small team working for him and made a relatively decent living. Then he met the devil and she blinded him with her beauty and tales of childhood hardships. It was not long before cracks in her beauty started to show, he began to see through to her soul, dark, decaying and disfigured. Within 6 months of their relationship, she had ceased working to be a “house-wife,” despite the fact they weren’t married. She did not cook, clean, dust, or bake but would watch daytime television and invite her girl-friends round to drink champagne paid for by his own hard work. She would excuse her “laisser faire” approach with stories of her Cinderella-esque childhood, recanting sob-stories of those terrible days spent in absolute destitution and how she was beaten if she did not maintain her parent’s house. She had an excuse for every aspect that her character lacked; every pitfall in her personality, it would seem, came back to her pre-adolescent dysfunctions. 33

Soon it got to the point where he had had enough, the joke was over, and she had to go. He understood her resentment towards housework, but they were supposed to be partners; in being partners they had entered into a partnership; it was supposed to be a two way thing, but since day one she had been coasting on his generosity. He had spent the journey back from the timber yard building himself up, preparing for the onslaught he would face when giving her the news. The journey in his van was accompanied by an emotional journey in his head and heart. During that 40 minute trip he felt everything from fear to bravado, sadness to euphoria, and everything in between. As he pulled into the drive, he decided to switch his mind off; let his old friend auto-pilot guide him through this tough endeavour. Solemnly and with his held hanging low, he exited his vehicle and headed towards the door.44

His girlfriend must have had a sixth sense; when he opened the door to his house; there she was, lying on the kitchen table, her resplendent naked body glistening in the setting sun-light. Physically she was perfection; so far out of his league it was ridiculous. Before he knew what he was doing he had removed his clothes and was mounting her. As he felt her physical warmth embracing and pulling him in, he spoke in-between grunts “Marry me…marry me…” He could hear himself saying the words but had no control; this foul devil’s whore had complete control over him. As she dug her fingernails into his spine, piercing the skin and drawing thin rivulets of blood, this harridan devil responded with minatory composure, “Yes…I will, oh…this is what we need…everything is coming together…’ He would now be trapped as her slave for an eternity, a lifetime spent in regret, a lifetime of self-loathing, infinity to never quite come to terms with his weak-willed decisions that were governed by his two main nemeses – fear of being alone and his penis.55

In order to pay for the wedding, he was forced to take on a second job. This was no ordinary wedding, the devil demands the best, and no expense was spared. There was to be a horse driven chariot, limousines for the bridesmaids and each tiny bouquet of flowers that adorned the guests’ tables cost more than a week’s wages.66

The extra hours he spent in his second job began taking their toll and soon he was making mistakes with his business. Christmas time came around and his company was not making profit, he had to lay off his team and pay them severance out of his own savings. The day of their marriage beautifully coincided with the day his business went into liquidation – the happiest day of his life.77

The main topic of discussion during their “romantic” Barbados honeymoon was how he could be such a loser. “Matt, do you love me? Is this really the way to treat someone you love?” and “If you really loved me, you would provide…” or “Love is not just about idle words, it is about actions…proving your love by providing financial security and comfort…nothing should be too much…I am all that should matter to you!” They did not even consummate the relationship until the last day when after a phone call to her father, she got very drunk on tequila sunrises. They spent the holiday separately; he would sit on a secluded section of the beach trying to drink himself into an early grave, whilst his wife flirted with the local waiters and dreamt about holiday romances.88

They returned to England broke and behind on their mortgage payments. “This will not do”, his wife dutifully informed him on an hourly basis, “You better find a way to fix this or you are going to lose me!” Despite her lachrymose berating, he capitulated; increasing his hours on the job he had taken to help pay for the wedding and soon found himself taking this “temporary” solution into the realms of permanency. 99

Sat in his office; he would often gaze out of the window at the industrial estate in greater London and long for the days when he was at one with nature. The weeks turned into months and the months into years. Soon he had been a lackadaisical desk monkey for approaching a decade, had three children and his wife’s cupidity pushed him harder and harder. She demanded that he was more successful; demanded that their status increased along with their house size, her jewellery boxes and shoe racks.1010

Today was the day where the chief exec would inform the applicants, who had been successful. The position he had applied for was as high as he could get on the corporate ladder, one position behind the chief. It meant more wealth than even his wife could spend. It brought with it travel, the best hotels, prestigious dinner parties surrounded by dignitaries and high flying Arabic money men and the chance, albeit a slim one, that his wife would get off his case. That she might finally retract her claws from his spine, reward him with compliments rather than pressure and contempt. Perhaps she would even relax; finally show him the love and respect that he was sure he must have earned through all his sacrifices and sleepless nights.1111

At precisely ten-thirty, he was called into the chief-execs quarters. This was the first time he had set foot there during his 9 years in the company. The chief tended to do his communication through his secretaries. He refused to have a phone in his office; the rumour was he was part Plymouth Brethren and rejected technology but that was merely hearsay. In the nine years he had worked at the company, he had only seen the Chief a handful of times.1212

The office was huge and literally took up a third of the 35th floor. The décor was decidedly minimalist, and it appeared that the rumours stood true as the only thing that remotely resembled technology was an ornate cigar cutter that took prize position on the Chief’s desk.1313

He was beckoned in and told to take a seat. Ten minutes later he left disdainfully; he had got the promotion, so why did he feel so down? He could not understand why he felt this way, this was his dream, what he had been working for; he had proved to himself there was nothing he could not achieve if he put his mind to it and went that extra mile.1414

One of the Chief’s secretaries accompanied him to his new office. She was called Sarah, she was kind of odd looking, but he had always had a bit of a thing for her. She was so sweet and kind and treated everyone with respect; she had these dimples that took over her entire face when she smiled and she would let out this nervous laugh when she was requesting help with something. He followed her up to the top floor where his new office was situated and thanked her when she left to return to her duties.1515

His new office actually seemed nicer than that of the Chief’s. He was no technophobe and the office was equipped with the latest technological advances. Settling down on the chair behind his gargantuan new desk, he decided to call his wife and give her the news. The phone rang out with no reply, strange he thought as his wife was supposed to be at home looking after their youngest who was off school with chicken-pox.1616

After a few moments of deliberation, he decided to surprise her by delivering the good news in person. He could come and go as he pleased now, who would tell him otherwise? As long as he stayed on top of his workload, his hours were entirely up to him. He entered the lift whistling to himself, smiling and nodding at his co-workers as they entered and exited the lift’s contained space.1717

As he approached the drive way of his 5 bedroom detached house, he noticed a car in the driveway that he did not recognise, probably one of his wife’s girl-friends he reasoned as he put his key in the lock.1818

In the hallway he was greeted by two trails of clothing leading up the polished mahogany stair-case. He followed the trail like some perverse Hansel and Gretel, to where it stopped outside their bedroom. Holding his breath he heard the now unfamiliar sounds of his wife having sex, coupled with the nauseating sounds of some mysterious gentleman. This is what it had come to, he worked himself to death in a job he hated, gave up his freedom, his dreams, the outdoors, only to be repaid by this. 1919

He placed his hand on the door-knob but could not bring himself to turn it. Instead he headed silently to his daughter’s bedroom, where she was sleeping silently, a vision of beauty and innocence, how had they produced some a wonder?2020

He scooped his daughter up in his arms, careful not to wake her from her slumber, and carried her outside and into his car. He then entered the double garage and picked up two jerry cans full with kerosene. Next he retraced his steps until he was back outside his bedroom. His wife and her lover showed no signs of slowing, let alone stopping. For what seemed like an eternity he stood there with the jerry can in hand, frozen to the spot, then just as he heard his wife scream in orgasm, he flipped the lid off the can and splashed it up against the bedroom door.2121

He headed towards the front door, all the while decanting the flammable contents. He realised he felt nothing; he was on auto-pilot, in the mind state he had had to adopt during his working life if he wanted to survive. Lighting a match, he flicked it onto the ground, instantly engulfing the porch carpet in lustful flames. The fire raced towards the steps, flew up them and disappeared out of view, without looking back; he headed towards his car where his daughter was still sleeping peacefully.2222

In a complete daze, he dropped his daughter of at her grandparents and mumbled something about returning for her later. He then drove back to work and boarded the lift. Whilst in the lift he tried to fathom what had just taken place but his defences were in safe mode; his sense had all but shut down. He could visualise what he had done in his mind’s eye, but it was as if he were completely detached from the proceedings, a voyeur of his own life. Apathy now had complete control, he felt neither sadness nor loss; he simply felt empty. As he opened the office door, he was hit by the familiar scent of his wife’s perfume. As he entered the room, there she was, sitting at his desk, a huge smile on her face.2323

“Thought I’d surprise you darling, Eleanor and her husband are looking after Sarah, I just wanted to…well I just wanted to apologise for what I have turned into, what I have turned you into. You are not destined for a lifetime of office work, you dream of being free, I am so sorry I have put you through this… It’s just…” She began to cry before continuing mid-sob “I was brought up in a family where we did not know where the next meal was coming from, let alone the next holiday. When I met you, I had my first taste of comfortable living, and instead of embracing what we had…I got greedy for it, your success became like a toxin, like a drug to me…I promise you, I will change, I have changed…In the last six months, I have hardly seen you…it has made me realise that us, I mean our relationship is far more important than your job…I know I don’t show…shit I maybe never have, but I love you…really love you…If you can just stick this job out for a year, what with the promotion and our savings…we’ll have more than enough money to set up your own tree-surgery business again, continue where you left off…even if it means downsizing…the kids are at school most of the day so I can get a part time job to subsidise our income if needed…what do you say?” She stood up and approached her silent husband who had not moved from the doorway of the office. She stared deep into his eyes and planted a kiss on his shaking lips.24