Part 4
Casey felt himself falling through a dark hole again. He wasn’t sure he could take more of this. He believed he would puke or pass out at any moment. But then, that only happened in real life. He didn’t know was real or wasn’t again. It was all a stretch, and everything merged into one another. This time, it was fast, and everything around him swirled. Keeping his vision was difficult, not that he could see anything as darkness took over everything. He was tired in every sense of the word. He needed to feel something solid, not this abyss that eroded his senses and left him useless. There were no walls to feel. It felt as if he was going through a portal often talked about in children magic storybooks. At last, his request was granted, but not in the kindest way.
Casey fell against the desk, bumping into it with his side. The pain shot up through his side. He struggled with his balance until he found a suitable place to sit on the floor. He was in the office, and he was grateful to be. A place he would have abhorred felt like home to him. His brain felt foggy as he struggled to come to terms with what had taken place in the office. The office clock showed that everything had happened in the space of thirty minutes. Thankfully, no one had come inside to see what was going on during those periods. They would have been shocked because he didn’t know what happened himself.
The chirping birds by the window provided a momentary distraction for him, slowly bringing him back into reality and a consciousness of his environment. He felt a stab of jealousy as he looked at the creatures flapping their wings. They weren’t only free; they also had no cause to worry. The birds weren’t bothered about where to sleep or what to wear. They didn’t have to think about the right clothes to wear. They were beautifully created, and nature served them.
Slowly, he considered his life and what had put him in his present situation. The wads of notes drew his gaze like a magnet. He was in a precarious condition. Many things could go wrong if he took the money. The police could be hot on his chase in a matter of days if the money was either the building owner’s or had been reported stolen. He could become a fugitive for real. But then, he knew that what he had just seen was a picture of what his life would be if he decided to escape with the money or left it. The police chase would be a small price to pay for the exotic lifestyle he had seen.
Casey was no seer or prophet. He never believed in such things and would gladly bear the title of being the least religious person in the entire universe. But now, his belief was being threatened and put to test.
On the other hand, he could go without the money, which was the honorable thing to do, but he was tired of the kind of life he lived. What he had seen was worse compared to how he lived at the moment. He wished to have a family, go for cocktails, have expensive dinners, drive luxurious cars, and have people at his beck and call. Who didn’t want that kind of life? He didn’t only desire it; he deserved it as well. It was his right. Casey felt a kind of righteous anger go through him. It wasn’t fair that only a small percentage of society lived the kind of life he had seen. What should he call that- a trance or a vision? Nobody deserved to be poor, especially him. He worked as hard as everyone else, always ensuring that he gave his clients the utmost satisfaction in every job. But then, humans were wicked and merciless. For instance, he had slaved his butt off in the trance, and the client had deemed it fit to pay him meaningless wages.
Now, he would chart the course of his life. Casey recognized that he had a rare opportunity. He wasn’t ready to let it slip through his fingers because of one honorable deed that no one would acknowledge. He would think about the price to pay later. Now, whatever he decided to do with the money would determine how he ended up in society. Which one would it be: Casey, the pauper, or Casey, the billionaire? He knew the one he would choose. The sound of billions caused his stomach to knot, but it was a welcomed reaction. He refused to be at the rung of the ladder any longer. Those at the top should wait for him because they were having a new member. Once he reached that point, there was no going back.
His mind was made up. However, he still had some things to do. He stood up from the floor, finished his cleaning, and wiped the soiled table. His client must be satisfied, so much that he would be the last suspect. Then, he picked up the wads one after the other, knowing he was being melodramatic about the whole thing. The smell of money was intoxicating. It wafted through his nose and pooled in his brain. He got another black bag to repack the notes. Folding the bag well so that it looked small, he tucked it into his jacket. Of course, he felt odd, probably because it was, but Casey banked on a successful operation. He packed his tools and stealthily walked out of the office. He knew no one would pay attention to the cleaning man who walked oddly because there wasn’t a time when he didn’t walk or behave oddly to people. Poverty always made someone look strange. Now, he was bidding it farewell. It had characterized his life enough. The world would witness the transformation that only money could bring. He smiled into the darkness around him, the desire for survival overriding the need to be morally upright.