Clay was nothing more than your average salary man. His daily life being composed of nothing but work days. He goes to his office at six in the morning and come out at six in the morning, a week later that is. He gets occasional breaks from time to time, but that's only if his boss let's him do his thing without the added overtime.

Today was one of those 'lucky days'. Apparently he had done 'a splendid job' at fucking up everything, so they sent him away on his long overdue vacation. Forever.

He was fired. He lashed out on his boss for the first time, and almost killed him. 'It's all good..' Clay thought to himself as he carried off his box of belongings and walked home. In some ways he was glad that he was out of that hell hole, but losing his only source of money was a big blow to him.

It wasn't like his company underpaid him or anything, after the hellish days of sitting on his ass and sorting out files, he did get paid a hefty sum of cash. Clay dejectedly walked down the street, stopping occasionally to catch his breath. It was hard.

He knew how much he hated his workplace, but to him it felt like his second home. His boss may have been an ass, but the friends and colleagues he had made up for it. Though, it wasn't like they were gonna cut off Clay just because he got fired.

Clay sat down on a nearby bench, as he thought about everything. The box on his lap felt heavy. It didn't have anything of value in the first place, just a few books and a small Bluetooth speaker, still it was everything he had. Clay had always been a weak child, and unfortunately he carried the trait with him up until his adulthood.

Even a box of scraps like this was heavy as hell for him. Clay stood back up, struggling to lift up the box as he continued on his walk back home.

It wasn't like his apartment was close, but more like he didn't want to waste money on a taxi. He'd always walk to work for as long as he could remember, it just made him feel calm. He'd walk past three separate convenience stores everytime, he would go out and meet an old lady that sold flowers by the sidewalk, everything about it just felt nice to Clay.

Clay was walking down a road, on the pedestrian lane, properly following road rules, when a truck came running towards him. The driver was passed out on the wheel, and wasn't responding to anyone. The truck was too fast for Clay to avoid, he couldn't do anything but watch in horror as his impending doom approached, or so he thought.

At the last minute, the driver's head falls on the wheel and accidentally turns it. The truck missed Clay by a hair's length as it swerved and hit a nearby pole. Clay who was still in the middle of the road dropped his box, and fell to his knees. He had never been in any situation like this before.

His legs refused to stand, as he tried his best to calm his beating heart down. He already survived a near death scenario he really didn't want to die of shock.

Suddenly, a loud sparking sound could be heard from behind Clay. The pole that the truck rammed into was now split in half, with one of them heading straight towards Clay.

Clay noticed the shadow looming over him, as he looked up only to see the pole inches over his head. "Fuc-" he uttered before the pole squashed him head first.

This day marked the death and subsequent birth of Clay Port.