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Falling is only the beginning. |
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Rain had been falling all day. Dark clouds had filled the sky for even longer. Monotonous shades of brown on the trees and grass were all that could be seen. The past winter had been mild, but the visible world was dead. Everything dies. I should know. Death can be quick or drawn out. Painless or excruciating. Unexpected or intentional. I’ve seen deaths of all kinds. I’ve caused deaths as well. I understand death at a personal level, for I too am dead. Yet, my body stills subsists. It lives on the memories of yesterday. It is my soul that ceases to exist. I sit on the ground next to an abandoned dirt road. In one hand, I hold a lit joint. In the other, a half empty bottle of bourbon. Up and down my arms lie track marks from heroin injections. That’s all I have to look forward to any more. That and the day my body finally passes away. How did I end up like this? I never would have pictured myself in this situation. I’ve become what I dreaded most. A drugee. A drunk. And worst of all, a demon. Only two are visible at the moment. The other lurks beneath my skin, serving as a painful reminder of the past. A passerby would never even know what I was capable of. My wings remain concealed for the time being. To anyone else, I’m just a drug abuser with nowhere to turn. I take a long drag before putting out my joint. I only wish drugs could fill the black hole inside. I am cold. I feel no hate, sorrow, or love. I only hurt. I was once happy. I hardly remember what that feels like. It was taken from me and never returned. Neither were any of my emotions. I wish my memories had been taken along with everything else. I only want to forget now. My past haunts me every waking hour. It will always haunt me until my mind and body pass away. All those who I have ever known have left me in some way. I have no one to depend on or love, even if I could. I walk this world alone, like a ghost. I leave no mark, tread no footprints, and cast no shadow. I have lost track of all time, but the past lives on in the present. I relive the grief and hatred everyday as if it were happening. The thoughts recur in my head twenty-four hours a day. The memories find me in my sleep too. I’ll never escape it. I can never be free again. |
| Chapter | 1 | Chapter 1 | 5.11k |
| Chapter | 2 | Chapter 2 | 6.70k |
| Chapter | 3 | Chapter 3 | 4.74k |
| Chapter | 4 | Chapter 4 | 5.05k |
| Chapter | 5 | Chapter 5 | 7.82k |
| Chapter | 6 | Chapter 6 | 5.70k |
| Chapter | 7 | Chapter 7 | 5.68k |
| Chapter | 8 | Chapter 8 | 11.53k |
| Chapter | 9 | Chapter 9 | 22.84k |
| Chapter | 10 | Chapter 10 | 8.91k |
| Chapter | 11 | Chapter 11 | 4.01k |
| Chapter | 12 | Chapter 12 | 5.04k |
| Chapter | 13 | Chapter 13 | 9.05k |
| Chapter | 14 | Chapter 14 | 9.25k |
| Chapter | 15 | Chapter 15 | 6.33k |
| Chapter | 16 | Chapter 16 | 8.59k |
| Chapter | 17 | Chapter 17 | 4.34k |
| Chapter | 18 | Chapter 18 | 14.63k |
| Chapter | 19 | Chapter 19 | 17.13k |
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