CHAPTER FIVE: YONDERLY.
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❝ADJECTIVE: mentally or emotionally distant;
absent minded.❞

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NEVER ONCE did I rethink my life could fully turn a 180 for the worst. To which, this means, that there was a midpoint of likeliness to an incompetent lie-- as I already knew from the day I was birthed into this world, certain things were going to change. Not just for me, but for everyone else around my being. However, my parents have always told me, even recalling way back -- before I had learnt how to talk, it was that;

'life had its' own unique way of accepting people who do what they love. You just have to think positively in order to get there, and it will play out good in the end'.

To this day, the markings of my deserted and colourless society, I could still resemblance both my mother and fathers loving smiles on their exteriors. With a sigh exiting from between my chapped lips, I slowly opened both my eyes; a cloudy blur coming across my vision and making it hard for me to see what was encircling myself.

As my vision began to slowly veer back to proper, birthing in and out of consciousness, I then took notice of my surroundings; there were droplets of blood on the dirty white tile floor -- only to realize it was coming from the fresh cut that was on my arm. Numerous empty pill bottles have been scattered across the floor, burnt cigarette buds laying in the musty ashtray by the toilet, whilst the boxes were all crushed up and crumpled. Gradually looking over, I endeavored to sit up, using my one good hand to hold onto something close to me. The air in the room was thick; filled with many scents; smoke and musk, mixed in with the smell of vodka.

There was nothing but a bare, chipped in wall with scratches and blood. Dumbly achieving my lifeless goal, I rested against the wall and tried catching my breath; small heavy pants leaving my mouth, and with my good hand resting against my chest -- my heart, it was left there, feeling the faint beating.

"Oh, terrific. I'm still existing."

I thought to myself, took a notice of the faint sounds of water dripping slowly from the spout. Shaking my head, a sigh escaped my lips and soon looked down at my clothes; one of my once good socks, now had a hole in them, the ends of my sweater was threading, but still held that cigarette and musky smell. My favourite pants had a hole in the pocket area, making me frown and look at my reflection through the broken glass.

"The delicacy of a damaged crystal kept on breaking. Just one small touch and the fragments will continue to fall into very minor slivers, landing gently onto the surface it was attending. So unarmed and erratic; relating to this spasmodic, teenage lad, arriving from a torn lineage." I accordingly muttered to no one in particular, but to rather myself, as I stared deeply into the eyes of my reflection.

Staring back at me, was an unrecognizable person; the faded dirt patches marked their once skin, chapped and pale lips that were in need of moisture, and hair that seemed to be looking damaged in due to its state of presentation. Everyone had already told me, that I wasn't the best looking -scratch that! I of all people, didn't want to do anything about it.

One last time, I lifted my finger up and scraped it across the sharp piece of broken glass, feeling the blood come out. The small pain eased me for an unknown and unexplainable reason. Then after I was done, I backed away and slowly began stripping out of my worn out clothing. Then leaning over the tub, I clogged the drain and turned on the shower, and letting it run.

Whilst getting inside, I drawn the bombardment curtain and sat in the interior, letting the liquid fall onto me. When the water was at a certain elevation and climate, I turned off the bombardment and just laid in the tub, feeling my breathing come to be rather steady.

Fled in the first midst, I unhurriedly secured my sights, and let the liquid engulfed my physique into a calm embrace.