This is #1 of Endangered and is titled Ruined. This is part 1 of Volume 1.
“Good morning boys and girls of Philadelphia this is Georgie James here to wake you up…”
The man, Michael Nicholson slowly opens his eyes as his radio goes off again, at 12:00 P.M like usual. Michael sighs in anger as the voice begins to go on some more.
“So let’s talk about them Eagles, huh?...” The radio says one more time before Michael slams down on the power button, effectively turning off the voice of Georgie James. Michael has always hated Georgie, especially his annoying voice, but that’s why it was the perfect thing to wake him up. Now Michael wished he could sleep all day but nope.
After a moment of hesitation of now wanting to leave his bed he soon pulls himself off the bed; ready for another boring day. He glances around his small, shitty bedroom before making his way toward the bathroom, rubbing his small beard as he does. Walking into the small, dirty bathroom he looks at himself in his mirror. Lately he’s been on and off about beards but it went nice with his brown hair currently. So the beard stays another day.
He instead grabs for his toothbrush and he layers with his green, mint toothpaste before he goes to brush. The taste begins to form beautiful in his mouth as he goes back and forth; making sure to not miss a spot. He always liked to look his best.
Spitting out toothpaste into the sink of running water he too soon dips his face into the cold water. As he planned the the cold water helped his tired urge and he soon pulled his head out. Less tired and more ready for the day.
Michael made his way out of the small bathroom and out into his one room apartment. The apartment was small as besides the bedroom and bathroom there was only one other room, the main room. The main room composed of a green couch, a small kitchen, a coffee table, a round dinner table and the TV that sits against the wall. It wasn’t much but it’s what Michael considered home.
Michael, making his way into the kitchen, soon gripped the edge of the refrigerator and ripped open the door, allowing him to look at the treats he has inside. A few, only a few, bottles of water are scattered around the fridge as is some basic food and snacks. But the strangest thing perhaps is the stock of soda in there, with the whole fridge basically filled with soda. Michael quickly grips one of the cans and begins to drink it, basically gulp it; he really enjoyed soda.
With the already almost finished soda in his hands Michael walked toward the couch, drinking soda as he does. He then plops onto his green couch and just lays there for a few moments, doing nothing but getting lost in his thoughts. Something he does quite often.
He spends the next few minutes just laying there thinking, his soda even begins to grow less cold until Michael finally does something else. He sits up onto the couch and puts his soda on the table before he reaches for his laptop. The new, yet already old looking laptop is laid onto Michael’s lap before he opens it and hits the power button.
Like always he found himself staring at the infamous desktop background. The one that always just made him sit there and think about the good ol’ days. On the background was a picture a much younger Michael; clean shaven, shorter brown hair and a smile on his face. Then in his arms was a girl around the same age with brown eyes, latino skin and blackish hair. It looked like they were more than just friends….
After taking a few moments of silence Michael went onto the internet, blocking the background image as well. With his fingers on the keyboard he began to search around the internet until he came across his daily site. Sure the site wasn’t exactly the best but it helped Michael fill the void inside him. The breast, the asses, the lower areas, the rubbing, the sex, and the moaning…….Michael didn’t like to think about what he watched and just prefered to watch it, not wanting to think about it. With the soda in his hand he watches as the girl takes off her shirt, a small smile on his face. It was wrong and Michael knew that, but sometimes, the wrong stuff was simply the best stuff.
He glanced at the time and saw that his shift started soon but until then he had time to relax.
It had to be around twin the afternoon as Michael pulled his small, rusty black car up to the warehouse. Unlike most other days today felt awfully cold as the sun sank behind the clouds, allowing the cold air to slowly drift around the city of Philadelphia. Stepping out of his heated car Michael rubs his arms a little, zipping up his black jacket as he does.
He begins to make his way across the brisk parking lot and over to the giant shipping warehouse that stands in front of him. He can watch as his co-workers move in and out of the warehouse either with coffee in their hands, or dragging crates. Now Michael was pretty much the loner here at the warehouse, with many people considering Michael the outsider. He would sit back and watch as people would carry around pictures of their families, talked to them over the family or even came to work with them; Michael however could only watch in envy and regret at this sight.
He would instead just walk through the front door and scan his card into the machine to show that he showed up on time. Although like always Michael showed up ten minutes late but his boss was always to lazy to do anything. All his boss ever did was threaten Michael but he didn’t care. He’s always hated the old man.
Fat, angry, rude, pervy, and corrupt were the best words to describe Mr. Sribb. All he cared about was money, something that hasn’t been doing good lately, for anyone in that matter. The economy has been in trouble and some people even considered the city divided into two parts; The Rich and the Poor part. Michael would be in the poor, as would Mr. Snibb but Snibb would do anything to suck one of the rich people’s dicks for money.
However Michael was met with surprise today as the moment he walked in he could see Mr. Snibb standing by the check in machine, a cheesesteak in his hands and his foot rapidly tapping on the ground. Michael could instantly tell he was angry about something, due to his snob little look, and Michael guessed it involved him somehow.
“You’re late again, Mr. Nicholson.” Snibb said in the nicest voice he can as Michael got close, but Michael could hear the anger through the voice. It made Michael smirk a little bit, seeing the big fat man almost explode in his stubborn anger.
“Sorry, sir." Michael rubs the back of his head, while keeping his smirk hidden. Michael also speaks with a Scottish accent, it's not heavy, but it's definitely noticeable. "I just lost track of time."
"You lost track of time? That's your fucking excuse?! I'm ruining a business here, and if you don't wanna show up on time, then you might as well not show up at all!"
"That's funny because I swear you were late the other day..."
"Don't you speak back to me. I have the security of your job right here." He holds up his hand.
"You also got a mole right there." Michael points out, letting out his charismatic smirk while doing so. "I'll be on time tomorrow, Snibb."
"Like hell you will. You know, I've had to much of your bullshit."
"That's not the only thing you've had enough of." Michael jokes about his weight, but this appears to be the last time Snibb is going to have his bullshit. "And don't threaten to fire me. Because we both know you need the extra hands around here. Unless you forgot about the closing notice..."
“Just get here on time.” Snibb says, finger on Michael’s chest before he goes the opposite way of the now smirking Michael. Michael watches the fat-ass walk away with a smirk on his face; he always did enjoy making fun of people. With that out of the way he made his way over to the docks, putting on his orange vest as he does.
Putting some earplugs in he put on Imagine Dragons and turned it up, letting the voices of everyone else drown away. Imagine Dragons has always been his favorite band and just listening to Demons made him happy, yet sad in a way. The song basically echoed his own life in front of him.
He then shook his head and dazes out of his thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to think about his life, not at work anyways. With the music still in he walked over toward his station, The Docks. Here he would unpack stuff from boats, pack stuff on boats or move crates. Usually all three of them in one day. The job wasn’t easy.
Slipping his Ipod in his pocket and zippering it up, he began to make his way toward a box that needed moving. However before he moves it he slips out his phone and checks messages. However he seems sad when someone by the name of “Sarah” never replied to his earlier message.
Sent 12:30 P.M on Tuesday, September 27th
It appears to be much later in the day, maybe around nine P.M. judging by the darkness. The streets are more full of life as lights shine down the streets, and the sounds of reckless party people can be heard. Party seemed to be the mood here in Philadelphia.
One place in particular showed to be the home of many people right now, The Philly Bar. Many cars were pulled in front of the restaurant and many drunken people were outside, trying to get out of their drunk minds. This act also seemed to amuse the people who stood outside and smoked their cigarettes, gossiping with their friends between each blow.
Now inside the bar was where the party was at. Men sat around the tables and had their attention onto the small TV screen, each with money out and beers in their hands. Others sat in booths and socialized with their friends and the others just fooled around in the center of the room.
However one expectation was the middle-aged woman who sat up against the bar. Stomach showing, demi shirt, silver jewelry, shorty shorts, leather boots, makeup and the long brown hair showed that this girl was a person who liked attention. She eyed silently at the men who were around the bar yet none of them interested her.
As she sat there however she soon heard the voice of a man boom behind her. “Nice Ass.” She turned around and saw Michael standing behind her before taking the seat next to her.
“Thanks?” The woman asks a little weirded out but Michael just laughs.
“I’m just getting the awkward pick up lines and hello out of the way.”
“So your idea of less awkward is talking about people’s asses?”
“Only if that got a nice one like the pair you have.” Michael says with that player look on his face and she too soon laughs slightly. He’s in. “Excuse me, get me a coke.” Michael asks the bartender.
“Coke?” The woman asked confused as Michael simply nodded. Although he acted like one he doesn’t drink anymore.
“Gotta keep the body good. Beer just ruins it.” Something in the tone of his voice makes it seem like he’s lying but she doesn’t investigate further. Instead she grabs her beer and takes a sip.
“You gonna tell me your name or just make more comments about me?"
“Why not both?” He jokes before extending out his hand. “Name’s Michael.”
“McKenzie.” The girl says as she shakes his hand. “So I’m guessing you aren’t from around here, Mr. Michael?”
“What gave it away? Was it the good looks, the eyes, the hair..”
“It was the accent.” She interrupts.
“Oh that too. Well in that case, yes I’m not from here. I was born over in Glasgow."
"A city in Scotland, the largest one actually. Anyways, I moved here when I was very young.”
“Was it nice there?”
“It was pretty and all but I like it here better, got some better lookin' people too..” Michael says, although it's clear that she is getting annoyed of him talking about hot girls. "I don't remember a lot of it, to be honest. I do remember the scenery. A lot cleaner and more of a sight for sore eyes. The art there was just as good, really good artist there.."
"Really? I've always been an art girl."
"Well I can definitely say that you would love it there. My pop was always into stuff like that, so he'd drag me to these museums. I was to young to appreciate it, though, so I dreaded them." As Michael finishes McKenzie turns to order another beer, but he stops her from doing so. "It's on me." Michael puts some money on the table, before turning back to McKenzie. "Did anyone ever tell you that you have very pretty eyes?"
Sometime later a car door swings open as both Michael and McKenzie crash into the backseat, their lips not leaving each other. The two continue to kiss as Michael gets on top of her, his head even almost hitting the top of the car, and she slid under him. He reaches for her but she stops him. “Not here.”
“I'm not like that. I prefer my bed.” McKenzie smiles at him and he nods his head, before getting off her and stepping into the driver’s seat, as she goes into the passengers. Putting the keys in the ignition he listens as the car turns on before looking at the time. Ten thirty. He still had time.
“I just gotta make a little detour somewhere, real quick.”
“I’ll be quick.”
After about ten minutes of driving Michael slowly pulls into the wide street and slowly pulls over next to the curb. The area he was in appeared to belong to the rich due to all the big houses, fancy cars, decorations and about a hundred other things. This definitely wasn’t the place for Michael. Michael scanned the small street until he saw the house he was looking for. “Be right back.” He says before getting out of the car, leaving McKenzie to only roll her eyes.
The house he was walking to was medium sized, small compared to the others, with blue paint and clean windows. A small bench sat outside the door as did flowers. After a moment he walked onto the doorstep and knocked on the door, after small hesitation.
While he only waited there for a few minutes it felt like three years in his mind, only to snap out of it he hears footsteps. His heart sinks slowly.. The door swung open and he came face to face with James Benjamin, whose smile was fading away after he saw Michael.
“Michael, what are you doing here?” James asked with annoyance as he closed the door behind him, although Michael tried peeking in there. “We both agreed that every month--”
“I wanna see her.” Michael skips to the point, not in the mood for one of James’s lecture.
“Do you really think she wants to see you?”
“It’s her birthday, James and I’m her father. I think I deserve to see her."
“Michael,” James began with a stern, angry voice as he spoke lower. He just hoped Sarah wouldn’t hear them. “You come here at dark, with some random girl in the backseat of your car, and you smell like shit. Do you really think I’m just gonna let you see her and ruin her night, again?”
“Look I get that you don’t trust me-”
“After what you did I’m surprised Sarah trusts you.” Just the mention of his daugter’s name made Michael go stiff. Sure he made mistakes but he just wanted to say Happy Birthday to his little girl.
“Just let me see here. I’m not some fucking bad guy.”
“Look Michael I get you want to see her but you aren’t exactly the best influence on her.”
“And what do you mean?”
“Well all you do is watch porn, have sex with girls, and drink alcoho-”
“I don’t drink that anymore,” Michael interrupts “We both know that.”
“What I’m trying to say is that until you at least you become an okay person then I’m not gonna let you see her on non-father weekends.”
“James, I’m trying to. I really am.”
“And we both appreciate that. But it’s not enough.” James says and looks how Michael looked down in sorrow. Despite the shit Michael caused James always felt sympathy for him, but his hatred was more powerful. “Now goodnight."
Michael only nods as James enters the house and closes the door behind him, once again not letting Michael see his daughter. Michael could only be filled with anger and regret before making his way back to his car.