Categories > Original > Humor > The Suicidal Immortal 2


by Togot 0 reviews

Ever have a day where everything goes wrong? For Derek that is every day and he wants to end it. There's just one problem, it seems that he can't

Category: Humor - Rating: R - Genres: Humor, Sci-fi - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2007-07-24 - Updated: 2007-07-24 - 2607 words

-Derek strained his neck to look at the clock; 6:00 A.M. he groaned in despair and rolled over, covering his face with his pillow to block out the early morning light coming through his window. Eventually he drifted off to sleep, but before he could even begin to dream, he was awoken by the high pitched screams of his year old niece.

-"Cock sucking anal raping genetic defect!" Derek grumbled to himself as he looked at the clock; 9:00 A.M. "It's going to be a long, miserable day," Derek sighed.

-He got up and helped his mom take care of his sister's kids yet again. Once the brats had quieted down, Derek wanted to get back to bed, but his mother had other plans. It seemed that his parents had hired two painters to come over and paint the kitchen and living room ceilings, and Derek had to help his mom cover up anything that might get dripped on.

-Once that was done, Derek was far too awake to get back to bed, so he decided to start on his other chore. His parents had decided that they no longer wanted the large deck in the back yard, so they had told Derek to tear it apart. Normally Derek would have enjoyed ripping it to pieces, but there was a catch. Derek's neighbors were planning to build a deck, so they had made a deal with his parents: Derek would take the deck apart, without damaging it, and the neighbors would pay his parents to use the wood for their own deck.

-Derek decided to start with the railing and noticed that it was held together by screws. He went into the garage to find the electric screwdriver, but its battery was dead. He removed it and placed it in the charger before going back outside to clear everything off of the deck in preparation for the demolition. Once he had removed everything, he went back in and retrieved the powered up screwdriver, but when he tried to use it, Derek found that the tool was still dead.

-Confused, Derek went back into the garage to try and figure out what the problem was, and he found it. The power cord to the charger had been cut; there was no way to recharge the screwdriver. "Mother fucker," Derek griped as he tossed the tool away and grabbed a normal screwdriver. Thirty-two six-inch long screws later, Derek's wrist and fingers were killing him. He got the last screw out and tossed it away, sighing with relief as he rubbed his sore wrist, and that had only been the railing.

-Next, Derek had to start the hard part, getting up the floor boards without breaking them. He thought about using a hammer to pull the nails out, but the deck was over twenty years old, and the nails were below the wood's surface. He took a hammer and tried smacking the boards up and then down again so he could get the nails, but that was only partially successful. Finally Derek decided to just take a sledge hammer and knock all the boards up that way, except he couldn't find a sledge hammer.

-Derek had to improvise, so he took the ax out of the shed and used the flat end of it like an hammer. It wasn't long before sweat was dripping off the tip of his nose. Swinging an ax was tiring enough when you swung it downwards. Swinging it up to knock boards loose was ridiculous.

-Derek took the occasional break, shifting through the rocks on the ground looking for some ring that his parents said had fallen down there twelve years ago. Apparently the thing was worth five hundred dollars, so his parents wanted him to find it so they could sell it at a pawn shop.

-Derek worked until he felt a raindrop fall on his head, and he looked up at the sky. Dark clouds were rolling in, and a rumble of thunder convinced him to go back inside, but not before flipping god the bird. Soon a full blown storm was raging outside. Derek wanted to watch TV in the living room, but the painters that his mother had hired had moved the couch, and the entertainment system had been covered. The painters themselves had left already, despite being two hours late arriving, and they would finish the job the next day.

-Derek decided to watch TV downstairs instead. The television didn't have as many channels, but he didn't seem to have any other options. The TV didn't even have a remote, so Derek pushed the button on the set. He flicked through several channels, and then he heard a loud crack just before sparks flew out of the TV and into his hand.

-"SHIT, FUCK...GOD DAMN IT!" Derek yelled as he jumped around shaking his hand as if there were a spider on it. His entire right arm was in pain, and he couldn't feel his fingers. Derek also noticed that the lights were off which made getting back upstairs rather difficult. When he did get up there, his mother informed him that the house had been hit by lightning, to which Derek replied: "...I hate my life."

-Feeling dead on his feet, Derek got in his car, despite the rain, and went to work. On the way, a tree fell in front of his car, but Derek managed to avoid the sudden obstacle. He stopped the car and looked at the downed tree while rapping his fingers on his steering wheel. It was pouring outside, but Derek knew that someone else might hit the tree if he didn't do anything.

-"Fucking, good for nothing conscience," Derek mumbled as he reached under his seat to get a road flair. Before he could open the door, Derek noticed another car coming. Derek tried to flash his bights to warn the driver, but rather than slow down, the car sped up and slammed right into the tree.

-"...Dumb ass," Derek chuckled while shaking his head. The driver seemed to be alright, so Derek decided to let the moron deal with the tree; he figured flashing hazard lights would last longer than a road flair anyway. He arrived at work and made his way up to the break room to wait for start time. He went to the vending machine to get something to eat, only to realize that he had forgotten to bring any money, so he went hungry.

-Once work started, Derek found that he was stuck in a truck filled with nothing but Styrofoam coolers. For some reason that was beyond Derek's comprehension, Styrofoam coolers had to be put in a cardboard tote before being sent up to primary. The only problem was that there were no totes anywhere in sight, largely because there were always so many coolers every day, so Derek had to take the coolers out of the truck and stack them along the length of the belt. After he had unloaded the last of the coolers, and he had a wall of them two wide, six high and the length of the belt, Becky came over and told him to just send them up without a tote.

-"God damn...stupid sonova...shit," Derek mumbled in defeat as he began picking up all the coolers he had just moved and put them on the belt. Once he had finished, Brent came over to help him with the handful of packages that were still in the truck; Derek couldn't help but notice the timing.

-Brent had a toothpick in his mouth, and for a moment Derek imagined a package smacking the guy in the face, causing the splinter of wood to pierce his tongue.

-"Why are you smiling," Brent asked.

-" reason," Derek answered.

-A few minutes later Becky came over and told Derek that he had to go upstairs for a safety meeting. Derek didn't really mind because it was hot as hell on the floor, but the offices had air conditioning. He went up the stairs and pushed open the doors leading to the offices just as a dozen people pushed past him trying to get out. Derek saw a thin layer of smoke creeping along the ceiling; he would learn later that the AC had caught fire.

-The safety meeting was canceled, and Derek went back to work. The next two hours was uneventful, except for a persistent, sharp pain in Derek's chest which he tried his best to ignore. The night was winding down, and Derek was ready to go home and go to bed at long last, but becky came over and told him that there was a late plane, and that he would have to stay for it.

-"...Mother fucking son of ass raping whore monkeys!" Derek hissed through clenched teeth as he faced totes since the heavens themselves would crumble if he were to actually just sit and wait for the cans to come in. When the plane finally did land, Derek had to go over to the ball matt where they pulled in the air load cans which were about the size of a five foot tall shed with Plexiglas walls; Derek hated them with a passion.

-Derek popped open the first can and got in. The damned things were so short that he had to work with his back hunched which he knew couldn't be good for him. Derek was pulling out an ereg and was half way out of the can when he forgot how low the top was, and he rose up too high, smacking his head on the metal rim.

-"MOTHER OF BUTT-FUCKING TESTICAL SHITTERS!" Derek yelled out as he dropped to his knees holding his hand over his head where he had hit it. Derek growled in frustration, every inch of him wanted to punch the shit out of the stupid midget can, but he was all too aware of everyone staring at him, so he knew he couldn't get away with it.

-Derek unloaded six more cans, and he banged his head two more times before the night was finally over, or so he thought.

-Becky came over and told Derek that now he had to restock the bucket bags, bags that they used for bucket packages in case they fell over during the sort. Derek groaned as he looked at the clock before he went to find a push cart.

-Ten minutes later, Derek was carrying two thirty pound rolls of bucket bags, one on each shoulder. He had searched and searched, but there was no cart in sight. He put the rolls on the poles that held them, and was about to leave when Becky stopped him yet again to tell him that the spill tubs also had to be filled.

-"...Why do you hate me?"

-The spill tubs were little drawers that held kitty litter for any spills on the floor, and the kitty litter bucket was on the other side of the building, so Derek had yet another arduous march in search of supplies. When he had finally retrieved them and was finished, he looked around warily for Becky like a spy trying to escape with the secret plans. He snuck over to the time clock, swiped out, and left as quickly as he could. The rain had finally stopped, but Derek discovered that his car roof had a leak when he sat down on the wet seat

-When he got home, he found his nephews were in his care once again. His parents, in all their misguided wisdom, had purchased small baseball bats for the boys which they were swinging around as if they trying to hit a piñata. His parents told Derek to watch the boys while they went inside to watch TV. Derek considered the justice in this, or rather the lack thereof, as he stood lazily leaning against the house and watched the runts.

-Derek was falling asleep on his feet, but his oldest nephew decided to wake him up by swinging the bat right into his uncle's balls. Derek cried out in pain as he crumpled to the ground holding himself. "God damn mother fucking...sonova...MAKE IT STOP!"

-Derek's mother came out complaining about the language he was using. When she saw him laying on the ground, she asked what had happened and laughed when Derek told her; apparently she thought it was funny, but no excuse to talk that way in front of a five year old.

-After the ball-busting-brats had left, Derek wanted desperately to go to bed, but his parents had other plans. They had him take out the garbage, mow the lawn, and shovel the soggy dog shit in the back yard. When the last bit of trash, blade of grass and piece of poop was taken care of, Derek shuffled back into the house like the undead.

-Derek had scratched his hand, he wasn't sure how, so he went into the closet to get a Band-Aid. While rummaging through the first aid kit, Derek noticed a bottle of sleeping pills. He looked at it as his drowsy mind tried to think of the opportunity it presented, and when the light bulb finally clicked, he grabbed the bottle. He was too exhausted to form a rant, so instead he just raised a slothful middle finger up at the sky with his free hand. He was so tired, his arm felt like it weighed fifty pounds.

-He downed the whole bottle, but didn't feel any different. With a sigh he tossed the bottle away, took two steps, and dropped like a stone.

-Derek slowly opened his eyes to the familiar sight of the hospital ceiling. His body was as stiff as a board, and he felt sick. He craned his neck to the side, but this time there was no one waiting for him to wake up. He heard a noise so he twisted his stiff neck around to see a nurse coming in to check on him.

-"Oh, you're awake," she said as if she were expecting him to never wake up.

-"How long...was I out," Derek asked.

-"Nearly a week. I think I saw your mom out in the waiting area, I'll go tell her you're up. You know, you're lucky those sleeping pills were only mild strength, that could have killed you. Read the instructions next time."

-"That was the idea," Derek mumbled after the nurse left. A few seconds later his mother came in holding something in her hand that Derek couldn't quite see. She didn't look as upset as she usually was after one of his hospital visits, in fact she looked a little too happy.

-"Oh honey, why didn't you tell me?"

-"Uh...tell you what?" Derek asked, thinking she finally figured out that he had been trying to kill himself on and off over a period of nearly a year, hoping that she had finally noticed how fucking miserable he was, praying that she would help make his life more bearable and maybe even worth living.

-"Tell me that you had a girlfriend," his mother answered as she waved the note that she held in her hand.

-Derek's jaw dropped, and a look of petrified horror was frozen on his face. The note in his backpack must have fallen out, and he hadn't noticed. His mother had found it, read it, and now she thought that he had already accepted. In desperation, Derek looked around the room for another bottle of sleeping pills, but none could be found. He was fucked.
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