3 A.M. DepressingStories

I get in from work at 3 A.M. as usual. My hands are lined with scores of cuts from the sheets of steel. It's dark in my apartment, the only light coming from the television, which I hadn't even bothered to turn off when I left this afternoon. The place is a shambles. A heap of empty beer cans on the floor next to the recliner, which is a few feet in front of the television. The only other piece of furniture in the living room, other than the TV stand. I don't turn on any lights. I walk through the living room into the kitchen and go to the refrigerator. I deposit the 12-pack of beer that I bought on the way home, and then I take the last beer from the 12-pack already in the fridge. I walk back to the living room and sit in the recliner. I stare at the television, but I don't see it. The beer tastes good in my mouth. I light a cigarette and stare. Late night TV. Could be an infomercial, could be a talk show. I don't notice. I go to take another sip but my can is empty. I'm not worried yet, even though I still feel the pain. I know it takes at least five to subdue it. After five, the rest I drink are just so I can sleep. I go back to the fridge. Back to the recliner. Back to the fridge. Back to the recliner. To the bathroom. Back to the fridge. After a while I lose count of how many I've had. By this point the pain is usually gone. It's not gone now. I feel it like a lump deep within my chest, in my core. I feel hollow. I'm angry now. I want to break something, but everything in the room has already been broken from the nights previous. I feel the pain stronger now. Back to the fridge, back to the recliner, all the time the pain is growing and spreading like a cancer. There is no more anger. I'm crying now, and it is not physically painful, but oh god does it hurt. It hurts so bad now I can hardly breathe. The tears blur my vision. I can't even try to stare at the television anymore. This is the worst part, when I can no longer pretend the pain doesn't exist. I am shuddering, inhaling in sharp gasps, exhaling in the form of low moans and wails. The neighbor bangs on the wall and tells me to shut up. Darkness now. I wake up at noon. The blinds are all shut in the living room, but some light still bleeds through the slits. The pain is still there, but it's a dying ember. I go to the bedroom and take off my clothes. I haven't slept in the bed in a few weeks, always on the recliner. I search all of my drawers, but they are all empty. My clothes are all strewn about the room. I haven't done laundry in a few weeks either. I lie to myself that I don't mind, that it's ok. I shower, dress again in the clothes I've been wearing for the past few days and go to work.

Submitted February 24, 2015 at 05:08AM by Spooky4You http://ift.tt/1DM4nV1 DepressingStories