The loud alarm rings, waking me from my deep slumber. It's time to go to work. It's another typical day for me. I wake up, get ready for work, which involves making gyros and serving customers. However, these customers can't be bothered to say thanks, not even once. This drives my blood to boil. Ugh, I digress. I haven't even gotten out of bed, and here I am complaining about my day, which is yet to fully start.

Finally, I stand up and feel a sharp pain in my back. Once again, this is a regular occurrence. Perhaps I should see a doctor, though I'm short on cash and they always overcharge. As I head to the bathroom, I scan my filthy apartment. The smell is so bad. I really should clean it, but I can't help it. I do my job all day, and once I return, I'm too exhausted to do anything.

I begin to brush my teeth, eliminating the awful stench in my mouth, and try not to make eye contact with the ridiculous amount of laundry I have to finish. Looking at the time, I see I have 10 minutes before my shift starts. Not so bad, as the fast food chain is very close to where I live.

Today is a very exciting day, as it's the last day of work before a 3-week vacation. I don't work for only those 3 weeks. At my shift, I have to do most of the work cooking, washing the dishes. You name it, and I do it, as my coworker is too useless to do anything. I'm always stuck with the rookies. Why me? Sure, I have been working at this dead-end job for 5 years now, but my lazy and rebellious side isn't right for training newbies.

The only thing that gets me through the shift is the Morse code I have written down on the table. The boss doesn't seem to care about it, though. The Morse code reads "fuck you boss". It's been there for 3 years, and I still can't believe that idiot hasn't noticed it. That always brings a smile to my face. It never gets old.

I always take the morning shift because then I have the rest of the day to sleep or, perhaps, if I'm not too tired, watch a movie. My favorites are paranoid thrillers. So exciting.

Upon returning home, I see the bills have also arrived. They keep getting worse and worse every month it's total shit and I am speaking mildly about it. As I open the door, I head to the fridge and drink the last can of guarana. Then, I begin the long journey of cleaning my dirty apartment. My mother always told me that as soon as you have something dirty, you should clean it. Clearly, I haven't listened to her advice.

Many hours later, the apartment is squeaky clean. I have done an amazing job, patting myself on the back, and then I fall asleep. I need rest because tomorrow is a very big day ahead of me.

The following day arrives, and I hear loud and aggressive dog barking. Immediately, I know it's 10 am because the neighbor's dog tends to bark uncontrollably on Saturday mornings. I quickly get dressed and head out, motivated by the awful barking.

I hop on my bike and drive off. The temperature has dropped, but it's not too cold. However, going fast on my motorcycle means that I start feeling the cold. As long as my balls aren't freezing, I can take it.

I arrive at my destination, the woods. I love being here, far from civilization but not too far that I won't have to be around people. I love the smell, the sound of beautiful birds singing, and the lush green color, my favorite. I come here whenever I can to escape from it all. It relaxes me and gives me some hope in an otherwise pessimistic view of life.

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I walk around, admiring the beauty of the forest for about 15 minutes, but the wind keeps growing stronger. It seems like I might have to turn back, but I decide to go a bit further to see the river. I've heard that the water level is so high that many houses have become flooded.

As I go further, I hear something very strange. I hear signs of a struggle. I quietly walk on, unable to control my curiosity. What I witness sends chills down my spine. My eyes widen in shock, and my heart starts pounding out of my chest. I can't believe it, but I see a man strangling another man. I know I have to step in and help him. But right at that moment, the strangler takes a large sharp rock and smashes the victim's head wide open.I was shocked and horrified at this savagery.

The killer proceeded to kick the now lifeless body and spit on it. I have seen too much, and I must escape. However, my body was frozen still. I thought I should just hide and be still. If I decide to turn back, I will probably step on a twig and alert the killer who was now sitting down and taking a smoke. He may have not heard me previously due to fighting the victim, but now that he has finished him, he will most definitely hear me walking.

A couple of minutes have passed, and this psycho is still smoking and refuses to move. I can't believe my shitty luck. I think I should just take my chances and slowly turn back, but I don't know what to do in these high-stress situations. I lose even the little brain cells I have. Unfortunately, things would turn for the worst as my nose starts itching badly, and I feel that I'm about to sneeze. I hold it the best that I can, but my sneeze ends up being so powerful the killer most definitely both heard and saw me.

I start running to my bike like I've never run before, never turning back. I hop on it and at full speed, I dive off. My hands shake like crazy as I drive, and eventually, in my frantic state, I make a sharp turn and fall off my bike. I look behind me for the first time, and luckily, I see no one. I quickly get up and continue driving, eventually getting to my home. I knew I had to tell the police about this, despite my previous reputation. They must know about this.

Entering the police station leaves me very uneasy after the incident, and I hope not to see him again. I walk around, trying to find the first police officer, and I find... him. Michael looks at me with disgust and says, "You have a lot of nerve coming here."

"Look, Michael, I saw a man get murdered," I pleaded, basically just one step from being on my hands and knees.

"Oh sure, you did, and I'm Princess Elizabeth," he says mockingly, not taking anything I've said seriously.

"I'm serious, Michael."

"Evidence?"

"I was in the woods and witnessed this asshole kill a man."

"Uh huh, sure. I totally believe it from your mouth," he said sarcastically but with a hint of rage underneath.

"Look, I'm telling you the truth, dammit!" I say as I'm losing patience, while Michael's eye twitches.

"Okay, then what did this killer look like?""He...um...he looked like Chicken Little, just very tall," Michael bursts out laughing. I knew that my description was terrible, but the killer really did resemble him - tall, slender, glasses, and a face just like Chicken Little.

"You clearly got drunk in the woods again," Michael says.

"I didn't, I swear. That's in the past. I haven't gotten drunk...i-in, y-you know," I stammered.

"Yes, I know damn well what you did that night, you cunt. I don't forget so easily," Michael retorts.

"I...I" I tried to say how I regret what I've done, but the words just refuse to come out.

"That's what I thought," Michael brushes shoulders with me and leaves. Normally, this conversation would have been irrelevant, but since Michael was the captain, it's his way or the highway. Thus, I return home. I lock my door and pull down the windows, making sure that no one can see me. I lay on the bed, thinking that maybe it will be fine after all. I doubt that the killer is smart enough not to be caught, and after all, I escaped unscathed. The chances of him finding me are quite low. I should be careful, though. I should be alright.