Night

It's three in the morning and he's trying to figure out why he's laying in bed in this condition night after night. He wakes every night at this time and goes through the inevitable thought process of wondering how one goes from looking forward to the many prospects of career, love and life to this. Waking in the middle of each night, sweating from the heat radiating from his body, trembling from the cold, the ache in his back, the pounding in his head, trying to remember just what anti-depressant he's on this week. Was it Prozac or Wellbutrin? Remeron or Zoloft? No, but it doesn't matter anyway cause he really doesn't care anymore. He'd take anything right now if it would just make him sane enough to close his eyes without fear of what he'll see when he does. That's a fading dream in his head though since they don't work anyways.

He walks out into his living room and sits in the dark smoking yet another cigarette - watching some godforsaken paid program-like, advertisement about buying real-estate with 'no money down' - trying to build the courage to go back, pretend he's normal, and join the rest of civilization in peaceful dreams. He tries to focus on happy things - little white sheep jumping a fence, cute puppies rolling the grass, smoking a joint and getting laid - but his mind always wonders back to her. The girl that he loves. The girl that makes him happy. The girl that he cannot, will not, live without. The girl that caused all of this.

After much preparation, he goes back for another try and lays down in his self-created isolation using all of his strength just to close his eyes and count those little fucking sheep that never show up. he's about to give up but he soon falls into the hells of a sub-conscience being.

He soon rolls over to find his love standing right next to him telling him that he will be alright and that she loves him. She then walks over to the bottom drawer of the dresser in the corner and calls his name. As he sits up in bed she turns to him, smiles and slits her throat.

It's now three thirty in the morning and he's praying for the sun to come up.