Richard was on his own.
At first he embraced it. he could eat what he wanted and do what he wanted. he could stay up as late as he wanted and go to sleep as early as he wanted.
He walked the dog in the rain.
He had it all planned out. The films he would watch. The games he would play. The TV series he could binge on.
Quiet time.
Richard was on his own.
He started to drink. It wasn't enough. He was afraid he would not get drunk enough. He added alcohol to other alcohol. He drank it as fast as he could because it didn't taste very nice.
He played his game as long as he could but he kept falling to his death. He kept going where there was nowhere else to go.
He smoked for the sake of smoking and ate for the sake of eating.
Richard was on his own.
He told himself not to go on the internet. No good could come of that. He wanted to connect. He didn't want to feel so lonely so he picked his computer up.
Seeing a prostitute seemed to be a good idea. He longed to feel skin touching his body. He wanted to be held. He wanted a girlfriend experience.
All the prostitutes seemed busy. So he harassed people he barely knew.
The music went on and got louder and louder and louder. Loud enough for the speakers to pop. then there was just silence. A ringing in his head that wouldn't go away.
He looked at things he never should have looked at. Then he looked at things more terrible than that.
Richard was on his own.
He drank more and more and more wanting to feel numb, Wanting to pass out and wake up on a new day. He didn't want to be on his own and he knew that tomorrow was work. At least he could be with people. At least he could talk to people. At least people would acknowledge he existed.
He knew what he would wake up to. He would wake up to the mess of the night before. He would wake up to what he had done feeling ashamed and ill and just wishing he hadn't.
This would take some getting over. This wasn't going to go away in a hurry.
He looked at the piles of tablets on the side. Given to him by his mother. Given to him because she got them free and didn't want to throw them away.
Maybe they would stop the headache. Maybe they would cure the hangover that was his life.
Richard was on his own.
Then he fell to sleep.
At first he embraced it. he could eat what he wanted and do what he wanted. he could stay up as late as he wanted and go to sleep as early as he wanted.
He walked the dog in the rain.
He had it all planned out. The films he would watch. The games he would play. The TV series he could binge on.
Quiet time.
Richard was on his own.
He started to drink. It wasn't enough. He was afraid he would not get drunk enough. He added alcohol to other alcohol. He drank it as fast as he could because it didn't taste very nice.
He played his game as long as he could but he kept falling to his death. He kept going where there was nowhere else to go.
He smoked for the sake of smoking and ate for the sake of eating.
Richard was on his own.
He told himself not to go on the internet. No good could come of that. He wanted to connect. He didn't want to feel so lonely so he picked his computer up.
Seeing a prostitute seemed to be a good idea. He longed to feel skin touching his body. He wanted to be held. He wanted a girlfriend experience.
All the prostitutes seemed busy. So he harassed people he barely knew.
The music went on and got louder and louder and louder. Loud enough for the speakers to pop. then there was just silence. A ringing in his head that wouldn't go away.
He looked at things he never should have looked at. Then he looked at things more terrible than that.
Richard was on his own.
He drank more and more and more wanting to feel numb, Wanting to pass out and wake up on a new day. He didn't want to be on his own and he knew that tomorrow was work. At least he could be with people. At least he could talk to people. At least people would acknowledge he existed.
He knew what he would wake up to. He would wake up to the mess of the night before. He would wake up to what he had done feeling ashamed and ill and just wishing he hadn't.
This would take some getting over. This wasn't going to go away in a hurry.
He looked at the piles of tablets on the side. Given to him by his mother. Given to him because she got them free and didn't want to throw them away.
Maybe they would stop the headache. Maybe they would cure the hangover that was his life.
Richard was on his own.
Then he fell to sleep.
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