Chapter 17 - The Freezing Depths of Hell
Far away from the glittering lights and the warm,
expensive champagne of the Phoenix Center gala,
Daniel was experiencing the true,
horrifying reality of a freezing,
unforgiving winter on the streets.
His expensive,
designer shoes had long since fallen apart,
replaced by thin,
waterlogged cardboard wrapped in dirty plastic bags,
offering absolutely no protection against the freezing,
bitter snow.
He dragged his numb,
aching feet through the dark,
deserted alleyways of the industrial district,
his body shaking with violent,
uncontrollable tremors that threatened to tear his muscles apart.
He had not eaten a solid,
warm meal in over a week,
surviving on frozen,
discarded scraps he managed to dig out of freezing,
metal dumpsters behind cheap fast-food restaurants.
His skin,
once pampered with expensive lotions and weekly facials,
was cracked,
bleeding,
and covered in thick,
dark layers of city grime.
He stumbled toward a small,
flickering fire burning inside a rusted metal barrel,
where three other homeless men were huddled tightly together,
trying desperately to survive the lethal,
sub-zero temperatures.
"Please,"
Daniel croaked,
his voice barely a whisper,
his throat raw and burning from the freezing air,
"let me sit by the fire,
just for five minutes,
I am freezing to death."
One of the men,
a massive,
scarred individual with cold,
hard eyes,
looked Daniel up and down,
sneering at the ruined,
shredded remnants of his once-expensive tailored suit.
"Get lost,
suit,"
the massive man growled menacingly,
kicking a chunk of dirty ice toward Daniel's feet,
"this is our corner,
you didn't contribute any wood,
so you don't get any heat,
now beat it before I break your jaw."
Daniel stumbled backward,
too weak,
too broken,
and too cowardly to put up any sort of fight,
the final shreds of his arrogant pride completely,
utterly eradicated by the brutal laws of the street.
He limped away,
tears freezing instantly on his dirty cheeks,
the agonizing,
gnawing hunger in his stomach driving him toward a small,
fluorescent-lit convenience store glowing warmly in the distance.
He pushed the glass door open,
the little bell chiming brightly,
the sudden blast of hot air hitting his freezing face like a physical,
overwhelming shock.
The cashier,
a young,
bored teenager staring at his phone,
didn't even look up as Daniel shuffled nervously down the narrow,
cramped aisle,
his eyes locked entirely on a cheap,
plastic-wrapped sandwich sitting in the refrigerated section.
His trembling,
frostbitten fingers reached out,
grabbing the cold sandwich,
his mind racing with a desperate,
frantic panic as he shoved the food quickly into the deep pocket of his ruined,
dirty jacket.
He turned to walk out,
praying to a god he never believed in that he would make it back out into the dark,
anonymous night,
but a heavy,
unyielding hand suddenly clamped down hard on his frail,
shaking shoulder.
"Where do you think you're going,
trash?"
a deep,
angry voice boomed behind him,
belonging to the store's massive,
off-duty security guard.
Daniel screamed in pure terror as the guard grabbed him by the collar,
throwing him violently against the metal shelves,
sending cheap,
sugary snacks crashing down onto the linoleum floor.
The guard reached into Daniel's dirty pocket,
pulling out the stolen,
squashed sandwich,
shaking his head in pure,
unadulterated disgust.
"Please,"
Daniel sobbed pathetically,
falling to his knees,
covering his head with his bruised,
shaking arms,
"I was the CEO of Sterling Enterprises,
I have money,
I will pay you tomorrow,
just let me eat it,
I am starving to death!"
The guard laughed,
a cold,
merciless sound,
and dialed the police directly on his mobile phone.
Ten minutes later,
Daniel was thrown roughly into the back of a freezing,
smelling police cruiser,
his hands shackled tightly behind his back in cold,
unforgiving steel cuffs.
As the cruiser drove away toward the bleak,
hopeless confines of the city jail,
Daniel looked out the barred window,
catching a fleeting,
heart-stopping glimpse of a massive digital billboard illuminating the dark sky.
It was a live broadcast of the Phoenix Center gala,
and there I was,
radiant,
powerful,
and smiling brightly,
surrounded by the adoration and respect of the entire world.
He closed his eyes,
burying his face against the cold,
hard plastic seat,
May you like
wailing into the darkness as the police car carried him deeper and deeper into the eternal,
inescapable depths of his own personal hell.
