Drake: We adopted each other. Anyway, here's the story.
I ran as fast as I could without spraining an ankle. I’m late! I shouldn’t have stayed up so long last night! You knew better not to party with those no-good people! I thought with a moan.
I threw myself down the stairs, jerking on my overcoat and shoes. I snatched up my briefcase and took a split-second break to look myself in the bathroom mirror.
Drake, you’re such a mess. Get your life together.
I threw open the door and bolted out for my car as fast as I possibly could. A few moments later, my car squealed down the wet roads of London as fast as it could go without getting a ticket.
“Drake, you knew better than this.” I muttered to myself, just as the sun started to creep over the horizon.
“You knew better.”
. . .
A wet and bedraggled Drake stumbled into the office of Carlton Myers, Attorneys at Law with a groan.
“Look who decided to show up,” a voice said. I looked past my shoulder to see my coworker, Stephen, smirking.
“Boss didn’t look too happy. Whatever happens, God be with you.” he chuckled, clicking a few buttons on his computer’s keyboard.
I know! I know! Shut up already! I wanted to scream, but I didn’t.
“I got this, I always do,” was used as a substitute.
Stumbling into my office room, I dropped my briefcase, and ran my fingers through my hair. It was still slightly damp from the light rain.
I don’t got this, I never do.
. . .
I walked through the empty door frame and into boss’s office, glancing around at the fluorescent lighting and large windows. Here it comes.
“Well. Mr. Adams, I think we need to talk.”
I think I winced at the use of my last name. I had never liked it.
I watched as Carlton Myers swiveled around in his chair. He looked down on me in a condescending fashion.
Carlton was a large man. He towered over people with a menacing air about him. He never seemed to smile, unless he won a case. Carlton had blonde hair that always seemed to be slicked back with a pound of grease and hair product.
“Mr. Adams, as the youngest criminal lawyer here, I had great expectations for you. Carlton Myers, Attorneys at Law is a prestigious working place, and we expect the best from the people who we do business with,” he added with a defined swagger, nearly dripping with fake appreciation and understanding. “Your work progression has been… desperately slow. And you have been very late to work these past few months. I’m sorry to say, but the effects from the situation are extremely dire. I hate to let such a brilliant young man go, but…” Carlton’s fake frown of grief completely melted off into a hard scowl.
I looked up in shock. I felt completely gutted. He couldn’t have just done that. He couldn’t have.
“You can’t do this to me, Mr. Myers! I’ve worked hard from the very beginning. I won’t have a job anymore! You’re the only respectable attorney in town! I’ll lose my house! I’ll lose everything!” I gasped in ragged and needy breaths. I could feel my tongue drying up inside my skull, and it felt as if all the moisture had been exported to my now-sweaty palms.
“I won’t say it again, Mr. Adams. You’re fired. Now get out of my office, and take your things with you.” Myers swiveled around again and hunched over something I couldn’t see.
My anger grew inside of me, trying to hold it back wouldn’t help. It boiled so voraciously my head hurt.
“You can’t do this to me, Carlton! You gormless wazzock! you’ll send my life into the gutter! I was your best lawyer! You knew that none of the others worked just as hard as I did! You-”
It would have been better if I had kept my mouth shut.
“GET OUT OF MY OFFICE, DRAKE!” he roared.
Just as it did before, my stampeding fire of rage melted into a solid bar of fear and agony. I figured that the sudden switches were in no way healthy for me, but it was too late now.
“Y-you’ll regret it.” I muttered and slammed the door behind me.
He’ll never take you back now! None of the other companies will want you now, and you drained your check! Great job, Drake. Great job!
. . .
I opened the front door and walked inside at the speed of a dying slug. I nudged it back into place with a bump of my shoulder.
I sighed. Dropping my meager items from work onto the floor, I looked at the yellow piece of paper that I had picked up from my musty and rubbed-through welcome mat.
I raked his fingers through my hair, a slight whimper escaping my lungs.
“What am I gonna do? My life is a ruin!” I cried out in anguish.
I let it go, and it tumbled to the dusty hardwood flooring. The sun streamed through the window, emphasising how dingy and dark this house was.
“I’d be better off dead.”
I opened the door, and slammed it shut behind me. I ran as fast as I possibly could, turning this way and that. Shame riddled my gut. Misery blinded me.
I doggedly bolted through people passing by, hardly knowing what was in front of me before I was nose-to-nose with it.
Whimpers and sobs writhed in my lungs, half escaping and half hiding. I felt something cold splatter around my legs, assuming it to be puddles. Only one remaining sentence would echo in my brain. Over and over again, as if it would be tattooed there forever.
I tripped and stumbled down on my hands and knees. I had landed in a dark and dank alleyway branching off of a lonely neighborhood. I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know what to do. I just weakly turned myself around to sit.
And I cried.
I cried for what felt like hours. The sobs that writhed in my lungs writhed so sharply it felt like snakes were scraping my insides. I had burnt my life on temporary happiness, and I didn’t know what to do with the ashes.
You’re so weak. What have you done? I thought pathetically.
I wiped my puffy and swollen eyes and coughed. The sun was nearly done setting now. I had wasted my life, and the rest of the day.
“What am I going to do now? I have nothing left.” I whispered.
There could be gangs and criminals out here… I shouldn’t have done this. Ohh, what do I do?
It suddenly felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. I felt like puking.
I know I haven’t eaten in a long time, but does this have to come now? I thought, soon after actually puking.
I clutched my pained stomach and stumbled forward through the alleyway. A bright glare from a streetlamp filled my vision, making me squint. I fumbled into the road, crashing to my knees. I slightly acknowledged the two bright lights at the end of the road steadily coming closer.
Am I dying?
My eyesight pulsed.
The lights stopped in front of me as the pain in my right side indicated that I had fallen over.
Someone exited the truck. Multiple someones.
I heard voices barking just as my consciousness finally faded into infinite black.
Drake: The rest of our story needs to be edited... This is all we got for right now.
Gimicani: -nods sagely-