Boiling (A Drabble)
His damn knee was bouncing again. Alex couldn't tell if it was because he was eager to get this over with, nervous, or stressed to even do this in the first place. It started bouncing even more the more he thought about it, his frustration at himself rising before quelling it with a deep sigh as he tries to cool off. This was gonna be a day and a half.
The longer he was in the waiting room, the more "in his head" he felt he was trapped inside of. Alex had to get rid of this one way or another, and video games, Internet, deep breaths, nor meditations were gonna stop it. It all had to go in this moment and he was gonna make sure of it.
"Alex?" a male voice called out, Alex perking up towards the source, seeing a young adult man, tall, with brown hair looking around before noticing Alex. Alex nods and pulls a half smile as he stands up. "Follow me, please" he said, smiling back fully as he leads him down the hallway.
"So, just a few ground rules: you can do whatever you want to the object for as much time allows. And you put in uh...10 minutes, right?"
"Right" Alex said.
"Yeah, just focus on the object, please don't break the walls. They're expensive sound-proofing walls, and all that."
Alex chuckles. "Gotcha."
"You can choose a weapon of your choice over...here!" he said, taking him over to the table of various handheld objects he could use to batter the junk. Bats, crowbars, many blunt objects. Skimming over several, he sees a simple baseball bat and uses that. The employee smiles. "Classic" he said.
Alex simply twists the bat in the air before catching it in response. The employee lead him off past other rooms before taking him to his designated room. "So, please wear this suit before getting in, it'll protect you and all that. And you signed the waiver, right?"
"Yeah."
"Cool. So, yeah, the computer is waiting inside. Once you're dressed, we'll let you in."
"Gotcha" he said as he starts to put it on. It was like something a painter would use to put up drywall or coat a house in and a hazmat suit. It was a cool aesthetic, maybe something he would take a picture of later to remember. As he got in the fit, he looks at the employee that asks him, "All set?" Alex nods. "Yup" he said. The employee nods as he opens the door and lets him in. "Enjoy!" he said before closing it behind him.
The room was eerily quiet, a tiny buzzing of an overhead light being heard. The red floor paint was chipped and scratched, barely recognizable from whatever luster it had before. Despite warnings, the walls seemed just as scratched and beat up as the floor. Perhaps they still got the job done, at least. Up in the corner of the room was a security camera placed directly upon the center of the room, where his stress-relief sat. In the middle of the room was a wooden table with the target of his anger sitting helplessly on top of it: an old Windows 98-looking computer, the whole monitor with the mouse and keyboard there with it.
Alex looks up at the camera before approaching the computer. He admired it for a moment, the plasticky, grey texture of its design reminding him of his old computer the family had back when he was a kid. Alex smiles a bit at that as he goes right in front of the computer, taking it in. He reaches out and grabs the mouse, staring at the blank, dead screen of the computer showing his suited reflection. He clicks on the mouse, pretending to browse or click on some executables and applications, reaching both hands out to type nonsense on the equally dead keyboard, the loud and audible "clacks" of the inputs being a dose of nostalgia shooting straight to his heart. He smiles and chuckles a bit to himself, admiring this little thing he used to love. He missed his old computer dearly.
Looking back at the security camera, he pulls away, feeling stupid now for letting his silliness overtake him, pulling away and standing straight in front of the computer. The computer didn't respond nor did anything, it's not like it was going to come back to life from his ridiculous display of faux computer knowledge. The hand holding his bat clenches tightly. Not out of anger, but of hesitation. Was this really something he should've done? Why would he take his anger out on this poor thing? It was a good computer, surely. It must've gotten a lot of work done, helped ease someone's time with music, a website, a game or two, maybe a nice email or a message from someone. It lived its life fully until it was spent and couldn't anymore. So, now he was going to hurt it? What kind of cruelty was that? Senseless. Sure, it was just a computer, it's not like it had feelings or a soul. But, this was a feeling Alex always had when he was small: that anything and everything has this innate soul in them, even the inanimate objects. And hurting that would make him feel bad, especially a computer that has life breathed into it just as much as it gives out. Maybe its soul was long gone at this point and it was just a husk, a mere corpse at this point. And that just made his future actions look even more barbaric, in prospect.
Alex reaches out and puts a gloved hand on the top of the monitor, patting it and rubbing it gently like he was caressing its head. "I'm sorry, little guy...please don't hate me. I'm really sorry" he said to it. The computer doesn't respond. He bites his lip a bit. "...you were a great computer, I'm sure if it...I'm sorry, again" he said, softly. Nothing. He hoped the computer understood. The feeling of the camera burning its gaze into the back of his skull started to overwrite his emotions. He paid for this, he was going to get his money's worth. It was a product, nothing more. And now its purpose was to be destroyed, and Alex would see it through.
He gives it one last pat before he decided to...test it. Alex gently sets the head of the bat on the top of the monitor, a soft "thud" being heard as the bat bounced slightly on impact. He felt the weight of the bat like an extension of himself, tapping the top of the computer briefly. Then he felt it: the spark. The spark of a fire ready to burn the whole place down. His grip tightens as he taps it a little harder, the computer bounces a bit now as the bat recoils slightly but stays firm in his hand. The thud was loud now. A growl lurched in his soul. The beast was ready to be uncaged.
Alex readies himself like a samurai ready to slice down on bamboo, holding the bat with two hands as he raises it overhead. He swings it down hard onto the computer with a loud crash, the computer's top being dented as the sides of the monitor popped outward. He felt the fury burning now. Alex starts swing down on top of the computer as his mind started to flash with all of the anger he's had to quell for the last 20 years of his perceived pathetic life. The beast inside him was started to gnaw at its cage, the lock loosening and ready to unleash it from its confines. Readying his bat like a proper baseball player, he swings at the front of the monitor. It bounces a bit off of the table as it was forced near the edge of it as the table shuddered underneath and was pushed away slightly from the impact. The keyboard flimsily attached to the computer bounces and recoils around from it all. His next target.
Going over, he slams his bat down onto the keyboards as pieces flew off of the board and into the air, some on the table and some onto himself before the suit bounces them off and to the ground. He keeps slamming down as more than half of the keys are gone and the board is bent out of shape in every which way. Grabbing the mouse, he rips it out and tries to launch it in the air so he can swing it mid-flight. He misses it as it falls to the floor. Vigor and frustration fuels him more as he grips it and throws it up again. Swing. Direct hit as it slams into the wall hard, the sound of a spring being freed from the confines, he thought he heard. Returning to his original target, Alex grunts as he swings at the monitor as it flies off of the table. Gripping the edge of the table, he shoves it away and to the side as it makes a loud "bonk" when meeting the wall.
The beast was fully uncaged as Alex started to slam his bat repeatedly onto the piece of junk. But after a few swings, he felt his eyes sharpen. He barely knew the term "seeing red" until now, feeling pure anger flood his eyes like blood pooling into water like a poison. The same one his dad had when he would get nervous and stressed as they darted all over the room and he started to shout. And the image of his dad turned that small fire burning inside him into a furnace. This wasn't his beast anymore, it was pure, unbridled rage. He grips it together as he starts to beat down on the computer with the bat mercilessly.
More images, ideas, people start to flash into his brain like a trigger to make his hatred burn brighter. The shitty retail job he's working in, the 4 years of college he wasted on a degree he didn't use, the years of bullying he endured from elementary school to high school, the burdens of being a fully grown adult, the frustrating lack of child wonder, his jaded and cynical new personality, the stupid fucking hospital bills "somehow" not being paid on their end, the insurance companies doing literally nothing but taking his money, the "you're a nice guy, but"s, the fucking social media apps doing nothing but pissing him off, the world being filled with cruel and violent psychopaths running the world, the fucking video games being expensive and boring, the music not hitting anymore, his one-sided lovers saying "I'm not ready for a relationship" and getting with someone days later, the managers extending his shifts, his overtime STILL not being counted towards his paycheck, the fucking excuses for the lack of raises, him being a man that should "man the fuck up," his looks being worse now that he was older, the perception of true masculinity that he doesn't walk the line of, him supposedly being a spoiled white man that doesn't deserve to feel anger and frustration, him being bad at video games, him being more stupid compared to others, his dad leaving him and his mom behind to fend for themselves, the fact that he can't save his money because of the fucking car acting up AGAIN, all of it. All of it. ALL OF IT. ALL OF IT!!!
The swings were getting faster. He wanted his arms to be sore, he wanted his arms to be in so much pain, he wanted to hate on this world harder, to watch it burn right in front of him if it was the last, cruel wish he would grant himself in his dying breath. He swung again. Swing. The swings were harder now. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing. Swing.
From the depths of his fired up soul, from his hate-filled, angered, brutal fury of a burning heart, a primal scream bellowed from deep in his soul.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!"
With one last swing, he slams down hard on the piece of junk as his shaky hands fumbled the bat out of his grip. He keels over slightly as he puts his hands on his knees, bent over as he pants hotly into the suit's mask to recuperate. The sweat built up inside his suit and under his clothes like he had done the most exercise in the longest time since. But he wasn't happy. Sure, there was relief, but he didn't feel satisfied. Why? Alex, with cleared eyes, looks down at the computer. Or, what used to be. The crumpled thing was a proper shell of its former self now, dents and destroyed viscera of its internal workings exposing the machinations of the once computer. Something stabbed his heart deep inside. The sight of the cracked open, shattered monitor revealed the circuits and internal boards housing the computer deep inside from where he stood, wires hanging out of the cracked screen like a desecrated corpse.
Alex felt shame and remorse hit him like a truck as his limbs grew weak at the sight of the thing. This poor thing didn't ask for this life and Alex took his needless anger out on it relentlessly like a wild animal. He felt tears well up as he stared at the poor thing, feeling himself start to nearly break down. But, he had to save face. The camera was there and he was not going to become the next big meme. Leaning over, he grabs the bat and uses it as a crutch to stand back up as he gives a thumbs up, not facing the camera as he heads to the door. Opening it, bat in tow, he heads out and shuts the door behind him.
There, he could properly cry his heart out for the poor computer before taking off the suit and setting the bat back in the spot with the others, leaving without saying a word as he enters his car and drives off.
