Too Little Too Late: Love Came Too Late, #1

By Alana Dick

Robin Elgin thought that his depression was the status quo. Little did he know that his life would get a whole lot worse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AJ Dimith
• Release date: Nov 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386409038

Alana Dick

At five years old this girl wrote her first story. Now she's nineteen and has produced her first novel. Through all her hardships and hard work her writing has came out on top showing not only her inner soul but the darkness that her life has cast over her.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE - MAYBE

Monday started the same way the first week of December always does, with the Christmas break right around the corner with excited teens draped in tinsel singing those god awful songs. I, however am getting ahead of myself because everything started in November’s dying days. For the person who finds this, this is what drove me to do it.

I follow the daily routine of waking up, shaving, breakfast with my wife and then off to work. Teaching was never my first choice for a career but it was the only one open to me but the routine is just not suited for thirty-six year old man who has the misfortune of being trapped in an endless cycle.

I hate my job and I wish I could throw away the shirt and tie costume but, teaching over entitled and arrogant teenage brats somehow pays the bills so like a poisonous marriage I'm bound to the job until death do we part. Hell I hate these kids so much I sometimes wish one of those American school shooters would come in so I could leave this dump behind me forever either in a body bag or the building is wiped off the map.

I’ve been watching the clock ever so desperately for 6pm so I can leave at last and continue with my life and with only five minutes to go I was being driven mad by how long it is taking. The clock finally strikes six so I leave the school with haste and head back home. I’m finally home after two hours stuck in traffic but I’m free for the night so I don’t care. I walk into my kitchen have dinner with my wife then head to bed for an early night.

As I lay in bed I dream, I dream of my school and everything else in this town burning. The bodies around me begging for help covered in blood and burns with a gut full of lead. Every dream ends with my  death by either my own hand or by the weapons of armed police. As I wake up in a cold sweat once again I once again remind myself that it is only a dream, I must admit I can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

The next morning I woke up with the Tuesday Blues, a headache and a looming sense of dread I have accepted as reality. Waking up alone is strange but when my wife called the house phone to announce the birth of our granddaughter almost three weeks early. I realise that nothing will ever drag me out of this quicksand like slump which keeps dragging me lower and lower to the point even opening my eyes is a Herculean task. I dread living, I dread working, I dread even existing but knowing that my death may end up with my family on the streets I choose to suffer out of my slowly dying love for them.

On the drive to work I keep gazing at the rucksack on the passenger seat wishing it contained the answer to my problems instead of corrected class work, lesson plans and stolen painkillers that I depend upon just to get through the day. With each passing second I look around my boring little town and hope for something interesting to happen to give me a reason to maybe be excited for the day ahead.

Turning up the country road leading to the school I stop for a moment at the old bridge and sit at the edge contemplating life. I remember when I used to have everything under control, when I could convince myself I was happy or maybe I genuinely was at the time. I remember when I loved my job when I loved my wife, and when my children looked at me like I was their hero. I have no idea where life went wrong, was it my wife’s potential affair? Was it the pressure of my work? I don’t know, all I know is that the end can’t come quick enough.

With tears in my eyes I check my watch to see how much time I have left before I have to lie to myself that I’m happy and put on a fake smile just to get through the day. I feel a sigh of relief overtake my emptiness as I realise I have around half an hour left before I have to start driving again to beat the morning traffic, I look deep into the icy water under the bridge noticing the small pieces of paper from my journal floating away from me as I cast them out unto the icy depths and think about what the water would feel like against my skin as I take my last breathes, I get lost in my thoughts and the fades away, however as I slowly fade away from my body a car pulls up a few meters away from the bridge. I can’t help but notice as one of my journalism students being kicked out of the slowly moving vehicle. I don’t want to get involved in the situation but there is something evil in the eyes of the driver which makes me worry about the welfare of the poor boy.

It wasn’t until he got closer to the bridge that I realised that the boy is Dean Birch, who is one of my more promising student with whom I share a common interest in the darker aspects of life. With a broken look in his eye he doesn’t even acknowledge my greetings before jumping up onto the bridge walls and screaming until he was blue in the face.I take a step closer to him so that if he were to try anything I could intervene because for some unknown reason I care for him as if he was my son. After a few moments of silence he looks up at me with his broken eyes and tells me about how his dad walked out on them during the week to live with his new girlfriend and it’s now just him and his brother, my heart started to break for the kid when he told me that his brother is punishing him for the situation. After a quick hello I offer him a lift as the temperature is in the minuses and he accepted. Trying to make conversation for the car ride I ask him about the article assignment I had my class do over the week, and for the first time since I saw him this morning I see him perk up while he tells me in excruciating detail about how America had another mass shooting over the week and how he had made his report detailing every fact on the subject in comparison to tragedies in the past.