After months and years of grey dreary skies, Antony Myner was losing hope. He felt like he would never find a princess to love, cherish, and protect. But as the night came to a close, as dawn threatened to crest the horizon before he was in the sanctity of his apartment, and winter's chilled night air bit deeply through layers of clothing, Anthony felt a sudden warming in his middle. It spread like a wild spring morning throughout his beleaguered, and battered body. As he unlocked his door, and entered his home, sweat started forming on his brow. He dropped his heavy winter's coat by the door, stumbled across to the kitchen and greedily gulped down a glass of cool water, then another, stopping before a third.
The rush of heat dissipated quickly and a chill went through his body. He wasn't cold, it was just the sudden dissipation of the heat. He felt flushed, wondered if he was getting sick.
With a heavy sigh, he wandered mindlessly to his bedroom. It had been a long night and he just wanted to sleep through his 2 days off, not moving, not thinking, just be unconscious. He wondered if he had enough Xanax and Rum to make it happen. To finally stop the loneliness, the pain.
But something was nagging at the back of his mind. Like a foreboding that he couldn't quite figure out. It was just outta reach, but definitely there.
"Fuck it. Fuck it all."
...he muttered as he grabbed his bottle of Xanax, shook out 2, thought for a second, and shook out 4 more, popped them in his mouth, grabbed his bottle of Captain Morgan's and took a long steady draw, gulping down pills and booze, eager for peace of a desperately sought sleep.
He dropped his clothes to the floor, leaving only his boxers on, as the warm glow the Rum started in his belly, he took another swig, and crawled into bed. With a quick check of the clock, he saw it was almost 7 am Friday, and he was looking forward to being unconscious for a couple days.
That was the last thing he remembered, until there was someone pounding on his front door. Groggy and angry he'd been woken up, he looked at his clock,
"Fuck me, 9:23 am?? I just got to sleep!" He grumbled as he crawled out of bed and headed for the front door. Again, a pounding on his door, it sounded off, not quite right,
"Just a God Damn minute!"
He crossed the last few meters to the door, the Xanax making everything spin and undulate. His hand landed heavily on the door know, his other hand fumbled for the chain as he fought to open his eyes wide enough to not look altered to whomever was on the other side of the door. With a heave the door swung open and he barked,
"What? I was slee..."
His eyes fell onto the face of a young girl. She quickly rattled off,
"Hi! I'm Melody, we're moving in next door. We haven't unpacked the toilet paper yet, can I use your bathroom?"
...and rushed past him without waiting for his answer and went straight to his bathroom, slammed the door shut, and Anthony heard the lock click into place.
"Sure, I guess..."
He muttered to himself, and stumbled to the couch, Xanax making him dizzy and his vision wonkie. Suddenly he saw stars, and his field of vision narrowed to pin pricks. "Oh no", he thought, "I'm going down..."
"Hey Mister, you sure walk funny...."
...and that was the last thing he heard before it all went black and his world seemed to chew him up and spit him out.
Through the mental haze Anthony heard a gently, delicate, lilting voice heavily layered with concern,
"Mister. Hey mister! Are you okay? Can I call someone?"
YOU ARE READING
Ache
RomanceShe's too young, he's too old, and the love that developed between them was messy, angry, painful, and amazing. She saved him, and everyone said, he corrupted her.
