The relentless blare of an alarm clock shattered the silence, dragging Alex from the depths of uneasy sleep. His body felt heavy, his mind clouded with exhaustion. Mondays were always the worst.
With a groggy hand, he reached over and silenced the alarm. A deep sigh left his lips as he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Just another day. Another morning filled with the same routine, the same struggles, and the same quiet sense of unease that had been gnawing at him for weeks.
He got up and stumbled toward the kitchen, his body moving on autopilot. The air was thick with the scent of stale air and unfinished tasks—bills on the counter, unread emails, a half-empty coffee cup from yesterday still sitting in the sink.
As he brewed a fresh pot of coffee, his fingers idly scrolled through his phone.
Nothing unusual.
A couple of work emails. A "good morning" text from Maddie, his girlfriend.
Even her sweet message couldn't lift his mood.
Alex had been struggling—his job felt like a constant uphill battle, an endless cycle of stress and underappreciation. He felt like he was drowning, barely keeping his head above water.
And today… something in his gut told him it was about to get worse.
The office was the same as always—cold, lifeless, suffocating. Rows of cubicles filled with people who had long since given up on their dreams.
Alex settled into his chair, trying to push through the weight of exhaustion. His inbox was flooded with emails, deadlines looming over him like storm clouds ready to burst.
Then it happened.
"Alex, in my office. Now."
The voice of Mr. Johnson, his boss, sent a chill down his spine. The weight in his chest grew heavier.
He already knew what was coming.
With slow, reluctant steps, he entered the office, where Mr. Johnson sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable.
The words that followed were expected, yet still cut like a knife.
"Alex, I'm afraid I have some bad news."
His heart sank.
"Your work has been… lacking. And after much consideration, I don't think this job is the right fit for you."
There it was. The final blow.
A punch to the gut.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out. What could he even say?
"I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson," he finally muttered. "I'll try to do better."
But his boss had already made up his mind.
"I'm afraid I have to let you go. Please pack up your things and leave the building."
It was over.
The walk back to his cubicle felt surreal—as if he were watching himself from a distance. The whispers of coworkers, the pitiful glances, the sympathetic nods.
He packed his belongings in silence, his hands moving mechanically.
The elevator ride down felt like an eternity.
And as he stepped out of the office building for the last time, a single thought echoed in his mind:
"What did I do wrong?"
Had he not worked hard enough? Had he not given enough of himself?
Or was it simply never in his control to begin with?
The next few days passed in a haze.
Application after application. Rejection after rejection.
He spent his nights staring at the ceiling, the weight of failure pressing down on him like a crushing force.
Maddie tried to be supportive.
At first.
But Alex could see the way she looked at him now—the frustration, the exhaustion.
And then, on a quiet Saturday morning, she finally said the words he had feared the most.
"Alex, we need to talk."
His grip on his coffee cup tightened.
"What's wrong?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
Maddie took a deep breath. "I think we need to break up."
The world tilted.
"Wait… what?"
"I'm sorry, Alex." She couldn't even look at him. "I know this isn't a good time for you, but I think it's for the best."
He felt numb.
"Why?"
Her shoulders sagged. "I just… I don't feel the same way anymore. And with you losing your job… I don't know, Alex. Everything feels like it's falling apart."
He wanted to argue. He wanted to fight.
But deep down, he already knew—her love had faded long before today.
He could see it in her eyes.
No amount of pleading would change that.
And so, he simply watched as she walked out of his life.
First his job.
Now his love.
And with it, his last piece of stability.
That evening, he couldn't sit still.
The walls of his apartment felt like they were closing in on him, suffocating him.
So he got in his car.
And drove.
Faster.
Faster.
His knuckles turned white against the steering wheel as the speedometer climbed higher and higher. The night blurred past him.
He just needed to get away.
From the pain.
From the emptiness.
From himself.
Then, out of the corner of his eye—
A rock.
A massive boulder, standing in the middle of the road like a final challenge.
His heart stopped.
Instinct took over—he jerked the wheel, but it was too late.
The car collided violently, metal shrieking, glass shattering.
His body flew forward.
Then—impact.
Everything stopped.
Pain.
Everywhere.
His mind was flooded with memories—laughter, love, regret.
The warmth of Maddie's touch.
The cold emptiness of his failures.
The realization that, in the end, he had let the world break him.
His vision blurred.
Darkness crept in.
His lips moved, barely a whisper.
"I... should've fought harder."
And then—
Silence.
In his final moments, Alex felt something strange—something beyond the pain.
A faint warmth.
A presence.
Something waiting in the abyss.
And just before the darkness consumed him entirely…
Something pulled him in.
A new chapter was about to begin.
One where fate had different plans for him.