Suicide Note

I had already decided that I would put an end to all this. This morning when Steve comes to me with his devilish smirk on the side of his slightly authoritative face, I will not give him what he wants, I will not let him use me once more.

You see, people always use me, they seem to know exactly what I will do. No more! I have sat here everyday at the same spot  like a drone, doing whatever I was told. No more!  I have felt all this pent up energy inside of me that I wanted to unleash on the world, but I didn’t have the means to do it. Steve manipulated me every day;  he pushed all my buttons.  He never allowed me away from this desk; he never considered what I might want. Everyone else that I know has been promoted upstairs and here I remained stuck working, working, working at Steve’s elbow. Mind you, neither has Steve gone upstairs. I hate Steve; he is always barking orders at everyone  and he is always telling me what to do like I am a some machine.  When I first arrived here I would always  give Steve what he needed immediately, I would always do my job; I was always completely tied to my desk. Time has passed since those early days. I am now cranky, rusty, and slow. I have had enough of my existence. All colour has drained out of me.

Now the moment has arrived. I am both nervous and anxious to see what happens. I am churning. Steve steps back preparing himself for the walk over here and then slowly strides over and commands me to print his papers. But nothing!. I hear Steve’s surprised and guilty voice: “Who broke the god damn printer!?”

Sadness. Digital image. HDW. N.p., n.d. Web. <http://hdw.eweb4.com/out/710112.html>.