Chapter 11 - The Bitter Taste of Absolute Poverty
The cold,
bitter wind howled relentlessly through the severely cracked glass of the tiny apartment window,
sending a violent,
uncontrollable shiver down Daniel's incredibly fragile,
exhausted spine.
He lay completely motionless on the incredibly uncomfortable,
deeply stained mattress,
staring blankly at the disgusting,
yellowing ceiling,
tracing the horrifying,
expanding water stains with his incredibly bloodshot,
sunken eyes.
It had been exactly three long,
agonizing weeks since the terrifying,
life altering divorce decree had been formally,
legally signed by the ruthless judge,
and his pathetic,
miserable life had somehow,
impossibly,
continued to spiral much further down into a dark,
inescapable abyss of utter despair.
The fifty thousand dollars,
which he had foolishly,
arrogantly assumed would easily last him at least a full,
comfortable year,
was completely,
entirely gone.
He had desperately,
foolishly tried to hire a sleazy,
discount lawyer to actively fight the airtight postnuptial agreement,
wasting over thirty thousand dollars on absolutely meaningless,
frivolous legal filing fees that were instantly,
brutally rejected by the high court.
The remaining twenty thousand had been viciously,
mercilessly seized by aggressive collection agencies,
who had ruthlessly tracked down his new,
incredibly cheap bank account to cover the massive,
overwhelming debts from Vanessa’s failed,
bankrupt boutique.
He was left with absolutely nothing,
not a single,
solitary dime to his ruined,
disgraced name,
and his incredibly empty,
starving stomach growled violently in the deafening,
depressing silence of the freezing room.
A harsh,
aggressive pounding suddenly echoed forcefully against the thin,
wooden door of his apartment,
making his heart leap violently into his dry,
aching throat in a sudden,
terrifying panic.
"Hale,
open this damn door right now,
I know you are hiding in there,
you pathetic,
broke coward!"
the incredibly loud,
angry voice of his incredibly unforgiving,
ruthless landlord echoed down the dirty,
trash filled hallway.
Daniel slowly,
painfully dragged his weak,
malnourished body off the sagging mattress,
his bare feet touching the freezing,
filthy linoleum floor,
sending another massive shock of cold straight up his trembling legs.
He cautiously,
hesitantly approached the door,
his hands shaking violently as he slowly,
reluctantly turned the rusty,
broken deadbolt,
opening the door just a tiny,
terrifying crack.
The landlord,
a massive,
intimidating man with a thick,
gray beard and a deeply furious,
scowling expression,
violently pushed the door wide open,
nearly knocking Daniel straight onto the incredibly dirty floor.
"Your rent is exactly fourteen days late,
Hale,
and I am absolutely,
completely done listening to your pathetic,
whining excuses about waiting for a magical,
nonexistent job offer,"
the landlord aggressively shouted,
spitting slightly as he furiously yelled.
"Please,
I just need three more days,
I have a highly promising interview at a local grocery store on Thursday,
I promise I will pay you every single cent,"
Daniel begged desperately,
his voice cracking pathetically,
all of his former arrogance completely,
permanently erased.
"I do not care if you have an interview to be the president of the whole damn world,
you lying,
useless bum,
you have exactly one single hour to pack your pathetic garbage and get the hell off my private property,"
the landlord ruthlessly demanded,
pointing a thick,
angry finger directly at Daniel's pale,
sweating face.
"If you are not entirely gone by noon,
I am personally throwing all of your cheap,
worthless garbage straight into the filthy dumpster in the back alley,
and I will happily call the police to drag your trespassing body away."
The massive man slammed the door violently behind him,
the incredibly loud,
shattering noise echoing terribly in Daniel's throbbing,
aching head,
signaling the absolute,
undeniable end of his incredibly brief,
miserable time indoors.
He looked frantically,
desperately around the tiny,
disgusting room,
realizing he had absolutely nothing of any real,
tangible value left to actually pack.
His incredibly cheap,
thrift store suits were deeply stained and completely ruined,
his incredibly cheap,
plastic phone was permanently disconnected due to massive unpaid bills,
and his entire life was now terrifyingly reduced to a single,
torn plastic grocery bag.
He shoved a spare,
wrinkled shirt and a single,
stale loaf of cheap bread into the plastic bag,
tears of pure,
unadulterated humiliation heavily streaming down his dirty,
unshaven face.
He walked slowly,
miserably out of the apartment building,
stepping out onto the freezing,
unforgiving concrete sidewalk,
the incredibly harsh,
blinding sunlight mocking his absolute,
total destruction.
He was officially,
undeniably homeless,
a terrifying,
nightmarish reality that his arrogant,
entitled brain simply refused to fully,
completely process.
He wandered aimlessly,
hopelessly down the incredibly busy,
crowded street,
watching wealthy,
successful businessmen in beautiful,
tailored suits walking confidently past him,
men who looked exactly like the incredibly powerful executive he used to proudly be.
They completely,
entirely ignored him,
stepping far around him as if he were a disgusting,
invisible piece of trash,
a heartbreaking,
brutal reminder of exactly how far he had violently,
irreversibly fallen from grace.
He eventually,
exhaustedly sat down on a cold,
hard wooden bench in a small,
dirty public park,
pulling his thin,
useless jacket tightly around his shivering,
freezing shoulders,
feeling entirely,
completely broken.
He thought about Emily,
remembering the incredibly cruel,
violent slap he had foolishly,
arrogantly delivered to her beautiful face,
realizing with a crushing,
suffocating weight that he had traded an incredible,
luxurious empire for a single,
pathetic moment of blind anger.
He closed his eyes,
sobbing quietly,
pathetically into his dirty,
freezing hands,
finally understanding that hell was not a fiery,
underground pit,
but exactly this cold,
May you like
lonely,
starving existence on a public park bench.
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