This story is about a former police officer who is now a cleaner. He used to be happily married with children and successful in his career. However, one day while trying to save a woman from jumping off a building, she committed suicide in front of him. He was unable to get over the guilt and trauma of not being able to save her. It led to him drinking, smoking, getting divorced, losing his job and children, and sinking into a state of nihilism. He now lives a lonely and meaningless life, still haunted by the woman's face and what happened that day.
1. This is a story I’ve written some time ago. Yesterday, while I was cleaning I found it accidently and
decided to type it on the computer and post it here. I hope you like it.
The Cleaner
‘I sat on the chair and poured myself a glass of whisky. It was the cheap stuff, of course - with my
salary as a cleaner (sorry, domestic cleaning expert) that’s all I could afford. I lit up a cigarette and
took a big puff. I had survived yet another day. This was my life now. I would smoke and drink and go
to sleep in order to wake up the next day and go to work so I get back home and drink and smoke
again. What a pathetic, miserable existence. I don’t get to see my children – my ex doesn’t think I can
be a role model to them. She thinks that pathetic car salesman with the severe ‘mommy issues’ she
married can be a better father. Well, at least he doesn’t smoke or drink. His only vices are being a
useless mollusc and a mindless drone but, hey, we can’t all be perfect, right? My life is empty and
completely deprived of meaning. If I were to die right now, I doubt anybody would notice until they
detect the stench of my rotting corpse. But it wasn’t always like that. There was a time I was actually
useful to society. Hard to believe, right?
I used to be a copper and a damn good one, too. I was to rise up quickly in the ranks and become an
inspector. I had ‘the gift.’ I usually noticed things nobody else would. I was happily married and my
children loved me. I was living a pretty good life. Until that accursed day.
I was walking home from work. It was rainy, as usual, but it had been a calm day so I didn’t mind.
Suddenly, I saw people crowded on the pavement like sardines in a can. When I looked up, I saw the
reason – in-between the raindrops attacking my eyes, there was a woman on the top of a building.
She looked like she was going to jump, though I assumed it was just a cry for attention – if she
wanted to really kill herself, there are better ways to do it. Anyway, I decided I was high and mighty
enough to save her (the fool I was) so I went to the top of the building. Took me quite a while to
climb all the stairs because the lift didn’t working, but I managed. When I got up there, she turned
around. We were staring at each other for about thirty seconds. The rain was mercilessly beating us
over the heads. I couldn’t see it clearly, but I think she had despair written all over her face. ‘Get back
or I’ll jump’ – she shouted. ‘Take it easy, whatever is going on, there are very few things in life that
can’t be fixed.’ – I told her. She only screamed – ‘You can’t deal with the banks. They took everything
from me. I have nothing. NOTHING!’ and until could do or say anything, she took a leap. Her date
with the pavement ended quickly. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t think she’d do it. I was wrong. I don’t
know if she would’ve killed herself anyway but the fact that I was there made me feel it was my fault.
I couldn’t save her. I later found out that she had taken some loans from a bank but her business
wasn’t going so well and she went bankrupt. She had everything taken from her. The only thing she
had left was her debt. And somebody else had to pay it after she killed herself. I wonder if she or she
just thought she was taking her debt to the grave.
I couldn’t get past that; I thought that I could’ve somehow saved her. This scarred me. That day was
printed in my mind. I saw her desperate face, her cry for help everywhere I looked. I started drinking,
smoking, my wife kicked me out, and I got fired because I couldn’t do my job anymore. I found work
as a cleaner. And my life has been all the same one day after the other. Go in, clean people’s filth and
get out. I guess this is the only thing I could really do right now – clean house.
Everything is similar. Everything is meaningless. I fell into a state of total nihilism. I still see her face,
sometimes, in my nightmares. She haunts me, tells me it’s my fault. Well, up yours, lady. I just don’t
care anymore.’