July 5, 2022, 3:21 AM

 ***

Mr. Littlecross woke up on the morning of May 3rd at precisely 7 AM and proceeded to take a long, hot shower. But when he stepped in and turned the shower on, ice cold water started running down.

- Oh holy mother of God, this isn’t very nice now, is it?

He stepped back, turning the shower on and off a few times until the temperature started rising. For breakfast Mr. Littlecross boiled two eggs, put some butter on a toast and had a cup of black coffee. 

-  I feel tired…

 Mr. Littlecross took a sip from his coffee and immediately spat it out. The taste of coffee was disgustingly bitter. 

- I don’t understand why I even make myself drink this. 

He took his coat and rushed to his car to leave for work. It was a crisp morning. Mr. Littlecross tried for at least ten minutes to get his car started, but whatever he did it just wouldn’t move. 

- I’ll just take the bus.

Mr. Littlecross would mutter some words to himself now and then. As he reached the bus station it started raining and he didn’t bring his umbrella. Oh if only he hadn’t forgotten his umbrella at home, he wouldn’t be standing in the bus station drenched from the rain. He waited a full eight minutes until a bus appeared. The driver did not seem satisfied with a wet passenger but looked very neutral. Mr. Littlecross got off the bus and was planning in his head how he would tell this little adventure of his when people at the office asked him why he looked that way. Of course he could make a joke and say, “Oh, I think it might be because it’s raining outside!”, and everyone would giggle. When he entered the office and said good morning to his coworkers, no one answered anything, they looked very unbothered and did not notice the arrival of Mr. Littlecross. 

- Oh, you are a bit early, that’s great. - shouted his boss from across the desk. 

- I always come in a bit early, haha. 

- Well I need you to send these files to the customer and when you’re done let me know. I need your help. 

His boss only looked at him once, and turned to his computer once he said all he needed to say. Mr. Littlecross wondered why no one ever noticed him, it wasn’t like he was unattractive, or ugly looking. Well surely he wasn’t attractive either, though he almost didn’t care about that. He always thought it’s because of the neutral colors of his clothes, his very normal walking style and his very normal face. But this time it was different, after all his clothes were soaking wet and dripping. 

- These thoughts are giving me a headache. I should just work. 

He spoke to himself and then began working. Mr. Littlecross worked on every weekday, sometimes he would stay after hours as his boss asked him to. His job consisted of a few things, he was typing most of the time, answering calls, so on and so forth. Mr. Littlecross never questioned how satisfying his job was to him. He always did as he was told to do, and that way he earned enough money to pay rent, eat, drive a car and have a little leftover to buy a gift for his mother. His mother was his only family, but she was living in another town, not too far. Mr. Littlecross was completing his daily tasks when he received a call. 

- Hello, - he said. 

- Heyy my son, how are you? 

That was his mother calling, she sounded enthusiastic. 

- I am good, mama, just working. And how are you?

- Good, good. Listen baby, happy birthday to you. I wish you all the best, and maybe a wife ha ha. I am getting old, I want to see my only son happily married, you know. 

Mr. Littlecross just remembered it was his 35th birthday, and he had completely forgotten about it. 

- Thank you mama, very kind of you to remember. And I’ll find a wife, I promise. 

The rest of the day was pretty normal. Nothing happened, the day just kept on going, Mr. Littlecross did what he had to, ate when he was hungry, went to the bathroom when he needed to. He wasn’t thinking much, he wasn’t feeling anything intense, and maybe that’s why he suddenly felt like he was absorbed by a state of melancholy. This day was just like the others, yet he never felt like that on any of those days. Why did he suddenly want to sit in a comfortable position and do nothing, like a rock? Whatever he was feeling wasn’t enough, or maybe it was. Maybe it was just the right amount of emotions, maybe it was the exact emotions he needed to feel at that moment. 

After 6 PM he was about to leave the office, unnoticed by his coworkers, he took his coat and was about to open the door when his boss stopped him. 

- Littlecross, do you think you could stay a bit longer and help me out?

- I, um, ah uh, yeah sure. 

- I’m just messing with you. Happy birthday, I’m sure you have something planned.

- Thank you, - he smiled and then left. 

Mr. Littlecross decided to walk home. He kept looking at his feet, how he put one in front of the other, then repeated this action subconsciously. It seemed like his brain was acting separately from himself. He kept thinking that he was tired, and he would just want to go to bed early, maybe watch some TV… 

- But I’m so tired… 

He remembered it was his birthday, usually he remembers that day, not this time though. At least two others did. Oh he should have invited his boss for a drink, then they could have become friends. 

- I would like a friend, it would be nice to chit chat about silly little things in our lives. 

But then he kept thinking about how tired he was, and he would just rather spend the day at home by himself, doing nothing. He kept looking at his feet, when suddenly he heard someone yelling behind him. 

- Ah it was you, you little bastard! Come here and I’ll kill you. 

Mr. Littlecross was confused. 

- I am sorry, you’ve mistaken me for someone else, I’m just walking ho,- he didn’t even finish his sentence when the man came running down to him and punched him in the eye. 

It was not long before Mr. Littlecross could feel a couple of other hands gripping his shirt and pulling him left to right. 

- Please, I didn’t do anything! I swear. It must’ve been someone else, just let me go…

He noticed two other men joined the other in the delightful ceremony of beating him up. He could feel stinging pain in his nose, his arms and generally his whole body. He didn’t resist most of the time. The two men grabbed his arms and made him face a wall, and as Mr. Littlecross looked behind to see what’s happening, he found out that the man was holding a gun against his head.

- I am just tired…