juice

Working on it

The next morning, I was exhausted.

That night I had binged on three six packs of juice after running out to the convenience store down the road.

I'm paying the price today. Not only did I have a massive headache, I woke up at twelve.

I knew I needed more juice.

Last night I had so much courage, I went out twice.

Now I need more and can't seem to find that person in me again.

I was feeling so adventurous on that eventful night. It was like I could do anything I set my mind to.

And that's when it hit me. I could! At that point in time I decided that I would go out everyday. Even if I've had enough juice in my system.

I got myself up and out of bed despite my throbbing headache, and got ready for the day that I was planning. I planned on concurring my agoraphobia.

Once I was all set and ready I approached the door. I repeated the same steps as last night, slowly creeping the door open and carefully placed my foot out the door, one step at a time i made it to the sidewalk outside of my home.

The juice kept me going, it was my inspiration, I needed to get to the corner store for more of it.

After the short yet tedious walk, I'm at the doorstep if the worn out store.

I shuffled into the store and hear the welcoming ring of the bell. Immediately I vaguely recognize the cashier. He was a tall, burly, bald man in his late thirties.

I wasn't sure why but looking at him triggered a bad memory.

It was dark out, bit the kind of dark that made faces look illuminated. I hear lots of screwing and yelling, pleads for help.

Nobody is responding to them.

I feel as if I am responsible for the blood curdling screams behind that locked door.

His deep booming voice gets me out of my trance.

"Is there something you're looking for?"

At the moment, I forgot.