"One day I'll make it big"
Those empty words seem to bounce off the wall as a short white man sat up in his bed. Every morning, he would repeat those words. One day he'll have it all; the fame, the babes, the glory of the world.
But today those words felt foreign in his mouth; as if they didn't belong there. That fabled one day, it had yet to come.
He stood up, moving his short stubby legs towards the bathroom door; he looked upon the mirror, glancing at his unshaven self. His beard made him look like a Santa Claus, if Santa had brown instead of white.
His 'big old' gut stood out two inches from his chest, and he had a bald spot, right in the center of his head.
His small green eyes stared sadly at the reflection as he took his toothbrush and tried to look as close to perfection, as he could.
In the warm water of the shower he cried, his eyes bleeding out all the pain he had to endure. The man was not young; thirty-five, unmarried and unloved. He kept muttering the words "One day, I'll have it all" like it was his last hope.
After changing for work, he went to his old beat up car, leaving the run down apartment complex behind. He sang to the tune of his favorite song; never missing a beat; he's done it every day now, for the past two years.
When he finally came to work, he forced that smile across his face, waving and greeting everyone he came across. The smile, over the years, had lost it's purpose; now it only masked the emptiness he had inside.
A few greeted him back, but none were pleased to see him. Some grumbled about how strange he was, some just shrugged him off. In this place; he had no friends.
After a long day's work, he went for a walk, scrolling along the alleys, searching for what not. He strolled under the moonlight, momentarily forgetting his pain. The moon was his only companion; his only friend.
He eventually drove home, where he was greeted by a nagging land lady; she wanted the rent one week in advance. He didn't utter a word, just went to his door, took out his wallet, paid up and sent her home.
After eating a few crackers, and staring blankly out the window, he laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. His arms were heavy, his eyes were crying; he didn't even know why he was crying. The man was alone, so timid and scared.
"One day I'll have it all", he whispered weakly, not believing, not even one word. He whipped his eyes, and roll to the side, hugging the empty air that was next to him.
He closed his eyes, falling into a sleep.
He was a prince; to save his sleeping beauty from an evil man. He rode a white horse, and wore shinny white armor, his blade was long, almost like his valor.
He charged straight into battle, and fought as hard as he could. After an epic battle with thunder striking down, he won over his princess, and hugged her tightly in his arms. After apologizing for not protecting her in the first place; he gave her a kiss, and rode off into the sun set, to be forever at peace.
But when he woke later that night, he saw nothing but the emptiness in his heart. He never had his princess, and he doubted he'd have her now. He was just an old fat bald man, only wittering away till he died.
He slowly crawled out of bed, and made it to the bathroom, were he had his sleeping medicine in cause he had those sleepless nights. He had always pondered about the thought; what if he ended it now, and leave the pain to rot?
He held in his hand over thirty pills, different colors, for different doses. He stared at the pills, whispering his last words.
"One day I'll have it all"
He took the pills, seven at a time, and chugged them down, wishing to drown. Finally, he collapsed on the floor. He was throwing up, his stomach rejecting the curse.
Eventually, his eyes began to close near the bowl. He fell unconscious, his head hitting the wall with a load thumb. Before he cast his last breath, he muttered the words "Tonight, I made it big"
It took five days for someone to notice; his boss was worried why he hadn't shown up to work. The man made his way to the run down apartments, knocked on the door. For three days he did this, till he could take no more. He broke down the door, his nose filled by a foul smell.
The man that swore he'd make it big; got just that, he did make it big. For two days, his name was on the newspaper; a silly old man who OD-ed on Tylenol.