/r9k/

He knew he needed a new keyboard. Well, maybe he just needed a new key. Tack tack tick tackity tack tack. Briefly, he paused. Tackity tack tack tackity TACK TACK TACK TACK TACK... He always had to press especially hard on the "E" these days.

He opened up Amazon, browsing the endless list of keyboards. Back-lit, mechanical, ergonomic, silent. A few he added to his ever growing wish-list, but it didn't bother him. He knew he would eventually be able to buy all the things he needed for his new setup. After all, it was only a matter of time before he moved out.

Creeak. A new chair might be in order too, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he stretched himself for the first time since waking up. Yesterday had been a productive afternoon of working on his plans for his new workstation. Scrolling through the list a few more times made him giddy. Soon his life would be in order. Soon he'd be able to accomplish so much. He had struggled for years, but the last few months had opened his eyes to so much more. He could tell a big change was coming for him on the horizon. All he had to do was work for it.

His eyes shifted to the many posters that plastered his childhood walls... The characters in these shows had always seemed so determined, and now he finally understood the feeling and all it took was a change of mindset. The alarm on his computer broke him from his daydream and as if on queue, the walls vibrated softly, ruining his moment.

Great. He could already feel his blood pressure rising.

A pair of car keys landed on the kitchen counter with a soft clang.

"Pumpkin?" she called. "You're up right?" Her voice shook at every lilt. The old wooden door creaked open behind the figure facing his computer. "After work I...there was a deal at the store...so I got your favorite," she continued, hesitantly holding up a box of frozen chicken.

He turned himself just enough to catch a glimpse of the familiar logo painted across the front. He hadn't eaten yet so it couldn't hurt, he thought giving a bland shrug. Looking back to the glowing screen, he aimlessly clicked through folders with no real goal in mind, only trying to distract himself from the person behind him.

"You stayed up pretty late last night." His mother looked at him cautiously. "Did you finish your...internet thing?" She didn't mean to sound condescending but she knew that's how he would take it.

"No," he said with two syllables. He was sick of talking about this. It wasn't hard to understand but apparently his mother thought so. "I told you it's going to take a while so stop fucking asking."

She began to fidget nervously in her spot, shifting her weight from one heel to the other. "Yes pumpkin I know." She paused for a moment gauging his mood. "But...maybe you could look for some other kind of work in the meantime? You don't have to like it, just to make things easier until you finish your project, that's all."

He grit his teeth together trying to keep his calm. What did she not get? "I said NO," he spat. Usually all he would have to do is brush her off but today she was pressing. He hated that. The chair moaned again under his weight as he struggled to lift himself from the worn cushion. "If you hate me so much then maybe you should work harder so that I can leave!"

He staggered over to the wrinkled woman and smacked the box from her hand on to the ground before stomping on it. "Stop wasting all our money on this useless shit and DO SOMETHING!" he screamed. She was crying now but he didn't care. She always cried because she was weak and useless.

The stench of his clothes and his rancid breath stung her nostrils as he finished cursing her. That last spark of hope she had held onto for so long was finally gone. She was sure of it. "Okay sweetie..I'm sorry," she choked through her tears. "I'll make these for you now." Her back crackled as she lifted the crumpled box off the floor.

"Yea uh-huh why don't you fuck off, huh?" He waddled back to his computer and resumed scrolling though pages of files. He picked up one of the empty gallons off the floor. "Get the fuck out, can't you see I'm busy?" He clicked the purple link, unzipping his pants.

The door creaked once more leaving the beast to his solitude, and the old lady struggled to climb the stairs to her much smaller room. She hated him. She hated herself more.