Agent Of Chaos
By Enfield
Let's see, shooters go here, racing here, and adventure goes here. If there's one thing in I've worked out so far in my life it's this, my job at the video game shop is dead easy. All I have to do is organize shelves and keep the back room guarded, easiest eighty bucks ever. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention my name, my name is Scott Websly. I'm from the north of the United Kingdom, yep, Scotland. I'm a Scotsman and I couldn't be prouder. I've been keeping my Scottish accent for a good long time now since I arrived in the United States. I still have no idea why my family moved. I try not to think about my old life in the good old hills of the north, all my friends and family have been left behind for nothing and I hate it. I'm all by myself, I'm one of a kind here. It was not fun being the only kid in school with a heavy Scottish accent, the only perk from it was that people thought that I was Soap MacTavish from Call Of Duty. But I left that behind after that one day, I never talk about it but it still haunts me. My life got changed after my choice of leaving behind all the misery, my parent's still think I'm an idiot from doing that, I didn't see what the big deal was until later, but I'm never going back, I made that decision and I'm glad I-
"WEBSLY!" someone yelled behind me. I stumble into the shelf and send most of the game boxes falling to the floor.
"Bleedin' hell Johnson," I say after getting up, "Don't bloody scare me like that when I'm working."
"Sorry, you weren't listening to the boss."
I sigh and begin picking up the boxes, Johnson leaned down to help.
"What did he say?" I ask.
"He said that today's shifts are being cut short because no-one has come in," Johnson replied.
"No customers today?"
"Not one, you get to leave early."
"Dammit," I sigh. Johnson looks over at me quizzically.
"Why, what's up?"
"I hate going back home," I reply.
"I thought that you liked going back home after a long day," Johnson said.
"Not since I dropped out of high school," I reply. Yeah, I dropped out of high school. I didn't want to but the teachers in there were completely bonkers, I don't know why my study hall teacher made us work in the only easy class in the school but hey, they're teachers. But working in study hall wasn't the main reason I left, the real reason is much more discriminating than that. The full and real reason I left was this: Because I had a thick accent and they knew very little of what I was saying, they came to an obscured conclusion and decided that I had a mental defect. The bloody nerve of them. Because the prats couldn't understand how I pronounce certain words, they thought I had some sort of disability and then they thrived off it, they gave me worksheets asking what my disability was. Thing is, they never did tell me what one they had picked for me.
"Why did you drop out?" Johnson asked me.
"I told you before, I don't want to talk about it," I say as I set the last game on the shelf. I walk into the back of the shop rubbing my head, trying to forget that one day. Three weeks had passed and I'm still wondering if it was worth it. I still come to the conclusion that it was after what the teacher did, I still remember it.
"Look I'm telling you, I'm not mentally impaired," I say.
"You have your assignment, Scott," the teacher said, "Either you do it or you get a zero for the marking period.
"I don't sodding care if I get an F for the entire bloody semester,"I said as I dropped the paper on my desk.
"You're going to do it."
"No I'm not, I've been for scans, I'm clean."
This annoyed the teacher quite a bit.
"Scott Websly," the teacher yelled, grabbing everyone's attention, "I'm telling you now; you-are-DISABLED!"
My hand under the desk clenches into a fist while the other one grips the edge of the desk.
"Do you get it now?" the teacher asks, "I'm pretty sure that if you didn't get the message I'm pretty sure everyone else did. So, know do you know what your problem is?"
"Yeah," I said darkly, "It's you."
The bell to signal the end of the day rings and I watch as my class walks out, I see them whispering and pointing at me. After they leave I stand up and look the teacher dead in her eye.
"You're going to burn in hell for what you did to me. The devil will be waiting for you and believe me, he doesn't like it when people steal his job."
And without another word I left, dropping the paper in the trash. I head down to the office and stroll up to the front desk.
"Can I help you?" the person behind the desk said.
"Yes hi," I said, "I was wondering if this was the place where I can get out of this hellhole."
The receptionist tosses a paper up onto the desk without looking up.
"Just sign on the lines and you can leave for good."
The memory of that day still sticks in the back of my mind, it only seems to come back in my dreams, along with other life changing choices. I head to the back door when I hear someone walking up behind me.
"Ah, there you are Scott," I hear my boss.
"Do you need something?" I ask but I'm hoping that he wants me to work overtime.
"I was hoping that you could do something for me," my boss said.
"Please keep me here longer," I think.
"Now I don't usually ask my employees to do this, but I think that your capable."
"Overtime?"
But my boss didn't offer me overtime, he hands me a few game boxes. I look at them and see that they're newly released, so new that I've never seen them before.
"When did these arrive?" I ask.
"Only a few days ago," my boss replied, "We've got at least three boxes full of each."
"Nice," was all I managed to say.
"Now I want you to come in early tomorrow and get these up on the shelves."
"Why not now?" I ask my boss.
"Because I want you to to go and play these so that we can give a store review."
Play them? Why would my boss want me to play these, the games aren't to be released until next week. I don't argue however, this is a rare opportunity to get games before they get put up on the shelves, it's one of my favorite perks of this job, right next to being allowed to play games when it's a slow day.
"Sure I can play them," I say, "Do you want me to give you the review when I get in tomorrow?"
"So long as you can give me the reviews before the deadline release," my boss replies.
I nod and leave, taking my new games with me. I head outside to my car, the one thing in my life that seems to work properly and my only escape from my home life. I've always liked my car, the car in question is an ex police interceptor, one I bought myself after I sold that scrappy little VW Golf from the 80's that my dad got me. I was glad to get rid of it, it was rusting, slow, the inside smelled strongly of mildew and best of all, the engine never worked. My new car however is the best thing I've ever got, considering that it was once used by an undercover officer so most of the attachments are still on the car. My personal favorite is the PIT bumper on the front of the car. Now anyone who's seen those TV shows with car chases, you'll know what the bumper's for, as for me, it's just another stage of frontal protection against crashes. The spotlight attached to the driver's side of the car works as well but I never really used it other than scaring my friends. I open up the door and get inside, I'm not looking forward to going back home. Reason being is because my family isn't what it used to be. Before we moved to the US we were always happy and having a good time, now however, we never seem to even talk to each other. I've tried to avoid my dad since I got my job, he has never liked the concept of me enjoying myself. My dad wanted me to live his early life through his eyes since I was old enough to realize what my dad wanted. I never did like my dad's concept of life being hard and boring, the way he had his, which fully explains his bitterness toward my happiness. Once I'm old enough and I end up where I want to be, I'll make sure he doesn't get any of my support. My mother is the true definition of a succubus, evil, irritating to have around, and above all, she feeds off of finding thing to shout at me for. Only last week she yelled at me for leaving a few lights on in my room, I was going back in there anyway. The only thing I like about my parents is that they are very gullible and forgetful. I can get away with anything provided that I'm not in the room. As I fumble around for the keys I remember that it's my younger sister's birthday in a few days. Just the mere thought makes me groan as I try and think of a present to give her, I try not to strain my mind and decide to get her a gift card or something for one of those stores she likes. I really don't like my sister, she's very self-centered and rather sullen. My sister has a habit of making friends and then never talks to them again. I still don't know how she hadn't become an outcast in her school.
I eventually find the keys and start up the car, as the engine starts up I give it a couple of revs to get it running. Johnson is outside as well and I can see him shaking his head. I give him a small wave as I drive out of the parking lot and onto the snow coated road in the dark winter night. I realize that it's late and my dad will want me home in less than an hour, but the old man can wait, I'm going to take the long way home, that'll annoy him.