May 17, 2010 Short Story

So the ensuing story is one that came to mind along with a few others. It centers around mirrors and the odd effects it can have on human perception. The story you are about to read is pretty graphic in some parts with harsh language and some violence, so if you're not into that kind of thing I would advise you not to read on. And lastly and comments and criticisms you have would be greatly appreciated seeing as I'm still looking to improve upon this story.

"Mirrors"
'The Janitor That Cleaned House'

Great, another day just like all the rest. These stupid fuckers. You’d think since they’re in college they’d be smart enough to realize I hate cleaning up after them. Then again none of them ever take the time to speak to me. What would they care anyway? They’re paying me to do this right? Fuck them. Fuck their rich parents. Fuck everyone. One day I’m just going to walk in here with a fucking gun and take them all out, and then they’ll see how I really feel about cleaning their puke off of the toilets. Wait. What am I saying? That would be ridiculous, I just need to get this done so I can go home to my wife and kids, enjoy the evening.
That’s Jim. He’s a janitor in a dorm at one of the major universities in the area. Every day he comes into work thinking that will be the day they wise up. Ever since he started working there it seemed like things just kept getting worse. The kids always left him some kind of mess. One day it’s only paper, the next there is puke all over one stall, hair on the floor, and someone somehow got shit all over the side of a toilet. It’s basically hell.
You see, Jim works his ass off. If someone complains about the bathrooms being dirty it’s his ass. He can’t afford that because he can barely afford to feed his family. His wife is unable to work because she has to take care of their three year old daughter. Jim can’t get a good job because of his record either. He spent five years in jail for aggravated assault; he beat the shit out of the paper boy because he threw the paper in the plants again. Jim’s got a short fuse when it comes to things happening repeatedly. This kind of makes you wonder why the university would hire him with this kind of background. Well, for the university it’s no big deal, just another person they can hire and pay a low wage for higher profits. Jim’s train of thought is torn off-track as he begins his duties inside the Men’s restroom.
Jim walks around the bathroom to survey the damage, thankfully nothing is broken. Someone just wrote all over the mirrors, missed the pisser a little bit, and there’s the usual puke covered toilet. If Jim had any sense of smell left he would be able to tell that this bathroom was dirty from the outside, but years of doing this has left him desensitized to just about every rotten smell you can imagine. Eventually Jim sees everything that needs to be done and grabs the cart from the hallway. He does the usual, start from worst to easiest. This means cleaning out that stall. I wish I could find the fucker that did this, I’d give him a good reason to spill his fuckin’ guts everywhere, prick. And like that Jim is back to the threats, he’s done it every day for the past couple years. Seems like the only way he can cope with his ‘shitty’ life is by consuming alcohol and the occasional joint. Eventually everything gets cleaned but the mirrors, he left that for last thinking it should be the easiest part of the day. So he grabs the glass cleaner and a couple paper towels and gets to work. First wipe down brings no luck, the writing is still there. Son of a bitch, these motherfuckers used permanent marker. I swear to God all of these people automatically become fucking retarded when they get here, I ought to shoot ‘em all and save the rest of the world the misery… Jim heads back to grab the extra strength cleaner hoping that it will take it off. Once he gets back he begins the process all over again. After several minutes of scrubbing something odd happens. Jim feels different, the air smells different. What the fuck just happened? Why did it get so quiet all of a sudden? Jim looks around but it seems as though nothing has changed, that he can see anyway. Then the look on his face changes as he becomes even more perplexed. What am I holding? Jim shifts his focus to what is in his hands. The feeling of cool metal rather than a wet paper towel was among his fingers now, and he had no idea how it got there. He looks at the mirrors he was just cleaning, they’re still marked up, except for where he had just been scrubbing... or is scrubbing right now. What.The.Fuck… He walks up to the mirrors for a closer look. On the other side he sees himself, but instead his reflection is moving on its own, it’s cleaning the mirrors. As he watches the graffiti on the mirrors disappears with each rhythmic movement of his counterpart’s hand. That still doesn’t explain what’s in his hands, and then he remembers to check again. Holy Shit!! How the fuck did I get this? Jim is talking about a gun, a fully automatic gun which he would never be able to purchase thanks to his damn parole sentence.
At this point Jim gets a sliver of thought into his mind. Hmm… well, I have been talking about taking all of those damn punks out, this could be my chance. Jim makes the decision to come up with a quick plan, but he’s gotta hurry before “some damn faggot” walks into the bathroom. Jim has not been known to make the most intelligent decisions so he decides best option is to just walk down the hallway shooting anyone he finds. Then again, to think about doing any of this is absolutely crazy. Suddenly a guy walks into the bathroom. He startles Jim, gets about halfway into the bathroom before he notices Jim’s new accessory. The look on his face goes from empty to absolutely horrified. As he turns to run Jim fires of three shots, the first two missing the next into the kids back. Fucker, got the little bastard. I better hurry now, I’m sure everyone heard that. Jim’s one moment of genius. Sadly enough, no matter what anyone heard that day it didn’t quite do much for someone with so much access to the rest of the building. Jim went floor to floor shooting anyone in sight and even getting a few more that he didn’t even know about. He knows every nook and cranny in the place, no one could hide from his vengeance. Being a janitor he did not have access to the students rooms, so instead of trying ever door he would just fire a few rounds into each one in the hopes of getting another one. Jim makes his way down to each and every floor trying to cause as much mayhem as possible. Eventually he gets down to the ground floor where he decides in order to have any chance he’s going to have to take someone hostage, and he does so in the lobby. This was definitely not one of Jim’s best decisions. He decided his best place to hold someone hostage was in the lobby where there are floor to ceiling windows all around, including the offices. He’s basically out of luck and he doesn’t even realize it yet. As Jim grabs a girl and holds the gun to her throat he surveys his surroundings. He see’s so many flashing lights and men in black that he begins to get somewhat frantic, waving the gun around in the air and behaving more recklessly with each second. After about a half hour of what you would normally call negotiations (they we’re more like uneducated demands from Jim) the police got a bit nervous. Jim is back on the phone with the chief of police. I told you I want to see my family, just bring them over here man; I want to see my damn family!! Right as he begins slamming the phone down everything goes white. Jim was shot from outside by the best sniper in the area. They called him in once everything started getting escalated.
Jim wakes up again, everything seems quite hazy, but normal, oddly normal. Things are going to change quite quickly for Jim though. Ugghh…. Where the fuck am I? What is going on now? Who…who the hell is that? Why are they crying? Turns out the people Jim was looking at were actually the families of all of the students he killed in the dorm. He soon figured that out himself as he looked upon the memorial photo and realized it was the kid from the bathroom. Oh shit, why the fuck am I here right now? Can they see me? Obviously they couldn’t, for one, he’s dead, and you would think he would remember that. And yet it still hasn’t struck him exactly what is going on. This must be the funeral for the kid, but why am I even here? Then everything goes white once again. Now what…. I gotta get back to work dammit… Now he sees the family again, but this time it seems a few years later, they don’t seem so upset now, but they certainly don’t seem normal, to him anyway. Jim experiences a lot of what they go through on a daily basis in just a few moments, but begins to realize the extent of his actions. Then he realizes how much trauma he actually caused, not only for the families of the deceased, but also for the ones that were emotionally, physically, or mentally scarred from the whole ordeal. And for one fleeting moment he actually feels remorse. My god, what have I done, I didn’t want this to happen… I didn’t want this!!!! This of course was only a fleeting moment, because almost immediately Jim felt what it was to be absolutely panicked. He had no idea what was happening anymore. All he knew is that it was a horrible mistake to think something like that, let alone go through with it. But wait, this is all a dream, or like one, he went through the mirror. I need to get back to that mirror, now, because I need to see my family, and let them know how much I love them. Eventually Jim does get back to that mirror, but when he looks into he isn’t there anymore, and he’s not sure what to think. What the hell, where did I go? Fuck, it doesn’t matter anymore, I just need through. Jim presses his hand to the glass, and once again, everything goes white…
…All of a sudden Jim wakes up and rises quickly. FUCK!! What the hell!? He slammed his head on the bed above. What the hell, where am I? As Jim looks around he almost immediately remembers. Most of what he thought was a dream turns out to be reality. He never actually went through that mirror that day. He walked in like any other day and began work, but that day he had decided was “The Day”. The sniper never delivered a fatal shot yet Jim finds himself wishing he aimed one inch to the right. The shot stunned him and he was immediately arrested. It took weeks for Jim to finally reach court. Once that day came Jim learned he was sentenced to life in prison with no parole. This is the third time he’s woken up from that dream, and each time he wakes up wondering where he is. He’s been in prison for three years now. The dream comes back on the anniversary of the day that he decided to become the “Janitor that cleaned house”. Every anniversary Jim wishes he really could have gone through that mirror so he could have made the right decision.