Break Free & Be Broken by Eros Winter Page B

done? I have no home, no job, no prospects of good will of any kind. And that's not even the worst of it. There's a pretty solid chance I'm a wanted man right now. What if my neighbors didn't get out of the fire? What if they died? I could be spending the rest of this life in jail. Oh god... what the hell was I thinking? My life is in ruin and it's only going to get worse.
    The sob breaks through my throat and manifests itself as a clipped, pathetic sound, bringing with it some baby tears. Why am I up here? What have I been doing? Was this whole thing nothing but an elaborate ruse designed to shake up a life that critically needed a shake? If that's the case, I shook far, far too hard. I don't know what it says about me or the prospects of my future that I wanted to die so badly I destroyed my entire life to make it happen, but I do know what it means.
    It means I'm fucked.
    No longer able to refrain, I start to weep. I'm not usually one to give in to bouts of pity, it's just that right now, it seems fitting, for behold how pitiful I am! Tonight's been an unforgivable waste. I broke my arms to slip free from my chains, dashed for what I thought was freedom, and cracked my skull against the steel bars of a cage I never knew was there. What a cruel surprise... I really thought I might make it out...
    Perhaps I haven't yet felt pain enough.
    A particularly shameful sob echoes out into the night, and all at once I become self aware. This is contemptible. I stifle all the elements of this shabbiness: the tears, the sobs, the pity. So I fucking suck, who cares!? From what I've seen, all the people of this shitty world suck. I'm just another one of the masses... another sheep... a doughy cow...
    I am not different, as I once thought-as I tried so desperately to prove and believe. I am the same.
    Fuck.
    Enough of this silly night! Enough of this silly cliff! Where I'm going to go, what I am going to do-I have no idea-so I do what any good soul would do and push away the thoughts, dust the snow from my limbs, and start back down the trail, no longer sure how it is I feel.
    The situation has gotten so out of hand there's no logical way to respond. How the world around me can appear so normal while the one inside me is so busted up and insane doesn't really make sense. Maybe I'm slipping into the initial stage of grief: denial. Eh, so be it. The only thing I know for sure is that I want drugs. Lots and lots and lots of drugs. The first mission of my new life will be to find some. I need to suppress this discomfort, hide from these fears. Maybe I can make another run by Griff's and rob his ass blind. I've never seen a weapon in there, and surely he won't be expecting me to swing by again.
    Yeah... maybe I could do that.
    I entertain myself by scheming about ways to get more heroine until I reach the bottom of the trail. The clouds shifted during the hike and quit reflecting light. They also increased their output of snow. The combination left me in almost complete darkness, but I've hiked this trail enough to know I'm nearly to the bottom. I keep my eyes ahead, trying to make out my car in the distance.
    What the hell... some small light is floating in the air at the base of the trail. It almost looks like a firefly, but that couldn't be... For a breath, the light grows in intensity. I realize what it is. A cigarette.
    Someone is standing by my car!
    I stop, straining my eyes against the dark, trying to see what’s going on. Did Griff come after me? Not possible... is it? I sit in the snow a long time, watching, waiting to see what happens. The little light grows and fades a number of times, until eventually it's flicked away. Seconds later, a lighter flashes, bringing fresh life to a new one. Okay... so I'm not imagining things. Someone is definitely standing by my car.
    Should I just wait for them to leave? A bite of cold nips at my exposed flesh. My dress was fine during the heat of movement, but I'm certainly not equipped to sit here