Chapter 4

I sat alone inside of a dark, empty bar, helping myself to the priciest wines they had. I was never much of a drinker, but I knew not what else to turn to. I wept for the loss of my wife and my infant son, both having disappeared into some unknown abyssal oblivion. To cope with such an occurrence would be as infeasible as to comprehend what happened.

I lifted the ornate, crystal glass to my slightly-parted lips, and tilted the glass. The dark red substance slid into my mouth, a dry, bitter, fruity taste enveloped my tongue. It slid down my throat, adding to the drunkenness I had already attained. What else was there to do? I no longer had the urge to write. The publishing company was now nonexistent. Besides, who would there be to read my work? A job in the media is worthless without other people. Even the most introverted writer must realize that someday.

After my hours of sobbing, and replenishing the lost liquids with alcohol, I felt miserable and exhausted. For a second, my heart stopped, fearing that I wouldn’t be home soon enough to see Allie come home from work, but then I remembered.

I don’t think my heart could fathom the pain it felt in that moment, for it was the last thing I would remember of that night. I woke up, my eyelids glued together with dried tears. The cold, hard floor surrounded me like an ocean, and my whole body ached from the impact of falling off the bar stool and onto the ground.

Due to my sleepiness and my hangover, I almost forgot the events of the day before. As I woke up, I wondered where the sound of Allie’s alarm was, and why I was asleep on the floor. Then it hit me.

I longed to blissfully bask in my ignorance, to forget what had happened and to simply lie on the cold floor, allowing myself to slowly die off, not another thought in my head. For an hour, I did exactly that. Unable to sleep yet unable to live, I curled up on the floor like a dying animal, pathetic, useless, and just waiting for death’s bittersweet embrace.

An hour later, however, I knew I couldn’t go on like that. Slowly I make my way to my feet, my vision blurry and my mind dizzy. I was still hung over from the previous night. My mind throbbed, being beaten into a bloody, worthless pulp by alcohol poisoning and circumstance. Oh the circumstance...

Using my cane I maneuvered my way into the kitchen, unable to see my surroundings, but wary of the guidance of light. I poured myself a shot glass full of orange juice, hoping the fresh citrus would drive out the pain the wine had brought me. I found alcohol to be the most ironic of all substances. To the depressed, it is a good friend that one could not fathom being betrayed by. Hours after the drunken relationship is established, alcohol’s relieving embrace abandons them, leaving them with nothing but pain.

As I downed the shot, I smiled a bit at my metaphor. Had humanity still existed, I would write them a beautiful poem, warning them of the cruel betrayal that a mere glass of fermented fruit brought me.

Minutes later, I could feel my body driving out the sickening poison from my bloodstream in a cold sweat. Suddenly, I had the urge to see the city outside. I knew that the dark, dreary bar did my mind no good.

I struggled up the stairs leading to the balcony. The balcony door remained unlocked from the previously busy, bustling crowd the bar drew in. Slowly, I turned the creaky brass doorknob, letting in a cool blast of air, such a change from the humid, murky air that lingered inside. I stepped out, admiring the sunset.

Beautiful streaks of mysteriously elegant violet laced with the warm embrace of oranges and yellows littered the cool blue sky. Strange, I thought, that I had never truly watched the sun set. The noisy, agitated, thriving city was no more. I was alone, but yet still accompanied by the sunset’s beauty.

I closed my aching eyes, the sound of confused pigeons chirping in conversation to one another filling my ears. Even at midnight silence was a foreign concept in the city. Not anymore, of course.

Not anymore...

No more rude teenagers shoving me. No more trashy women screeching curses over the phone in the middle of the street. No more honking cars. No more law...

No more law...

I sprang to my feet, giggling wildly. “No more law! No more law!”

I rushed down the stairs and out of the bar, standing in the middle of the empty car-infested street.

“Today true anarchy emerges!” I shouted to no one in particular, “A city- no- a world for me! I can have what I want! No one can stop me! Hell, I can be the goddamn president of the United States if I want to! It’s all mine!”

I tapped on the hood of a brand-new black Ferrari with my cane, laughing as I sauntered down the street.

All mine.

Next Chapter: Chapter 2