The Break (An Eddie Munson Story)

Chapter 1: Crying in the Parking Lot

AN: Hello! Welcome to the very first chapter of The Break. Are you ready to set sail on an adventure of me making things up as I go along? A side note, nothing is beta'd, so if there are mistakes...sorry not sorry. As a warning, this chapter contains themes of sadness, depression and mentions of drug use.

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The parking lot was quiet, defeaningly so. Not another car or soul in sight, as you sat in the driver's seat of your beat up, second-hand car, sobbing your eyes out. Head resting on the wheel, as your knuckles clutched painfully tight to the once cool plastic, that was now heated and sweaty from your palms.

It wasn't safe to be out so late on your own, you knew that and yet, you did not care. A more cautious version of yourself, would not have dreamed of weeping outside of the closed video shop, on a school night but there you were, doing just that. In that moment of crushing sorrow, nothing really mattered, especially not your safety, not completely banal and pointless maths homework, not your parents...

Damn, your parents. You choked on an audible sob at the thought them, at home, drinking their habitual nightcap, none the wiser where you were or just how broken their child was. No, no, they did not or would not care about your safety or whereabouts. So why should you? You wondered when it had become so bad, this rift between you and your gaurdians but you refused to dwell on whether things would ever improve between you. To have expectations or hope was just careless and allowing for more, inevitable disappointment.

You needed to get a hold of yourself but with each attempt to compose your breathing and steam the tears, another wave of sorrow would wash of you, sending deeper into your spiral of self-pity and despair. Then the gloomy thought would re-enter your mind, even if you did leave the vacant lot, where would you go? Who would be able to take you in at such an hour? Who would care enough to play the white knight in your allegory of suffering? You thought of Steve or Robin, maybe even Nancy but you couldn't bring yourself to turn on the ignition and arrive unannounced on anyone's doorstep. It had been too long since you had been in contact with, well, just about anyone from your friendship circles.

Things had changed, you had changed but only for the worst over the past few years. People you once talked to regularly, had attempted to keep in touch but something inside you had snapped...frozen over and remained impenetrable to any sort of kindness or kinship offered by your peers. Eventually, the phone had stopped ringing and you had not bothered to return any calls. What was the point? Who would want to be acquainted with the shadow of your former self. You alone struggled to look in the mirror each morning and accept yourself for who you were, so why should anyone else?

It must having been nearing midnight, you mused, when you eventually sat up straight. Tears now drying as salty tracks down your face. Your body ached with having been sat in one position for too long but that only added to your daily pain. Painkillers would probably be able to remove the cramping from your limbs, but they could never take away the sadness that plagued your mind.

There had only ever been one thing- well, two things- in your life, which had helped to keep the sadness at bay. The first you could smoke, the other...

...The other you tried to avoid on a day to day basis. Neither had been good for your health and both you had been become too dependent upon. Far too dependant. So, like with everything and everyone else, you had pulled away and isolated yourself from your little ray of sunshine.

Now all you had was the never-ending cold that filled your bones. What a miserable existence you had assigned yourself to and all for what? To protect him or yourself...you were not so sure any more. You rarely felt like you were making good life decisions anymore and letting him go, well, that felt like the biggest mistake of all.

Leaning back in your seat, you stared up at the cigarette holes in the ceiling of the roof. They had already been a part of the decor when the car was purchased for your birthday. You almost smiled in recollection of the day you picked up your beloved car from the seller. It has been raining profusely all day but during the first drive, with him in the passenger seat, had brightened up the day more than the sun ever could. His laughter- oh, his laughter- had been so infectious, as you sang along to the mixtape he had made especially for you. The cassette now remained, wholly ignored, in the glove compartment.

Mindlessly, you reached out the trace the indents but before your fingers could connect with the melted material, a sharp rat-a-tat-tat on your window caused you to flinch and yelp in surprise.