Oxymoron

CHAPTER 2 : Smoke

When I got home the first thing I did was light a cigarette. Guilt consumed me as I inhaled the smoke. My hands twitched as I contemplated visiting the closet. The closet was like any other except for one thing. This closet was stocked with drugs , alcohol and razors. I never really went for too long without visiting the closet. I barely had the ability to live without the alcohol.

I walked over to the old closet.Same old routine. Flick the needle and find a vein. I felt the drugs run through my veins. I stumbled to the bathroom. I let the hot water run for a while. I stripped down and looked at my reflection in the mirror. My skin hung close to my bones. I looked gaunt. I almost looked like my mother.

My mother was not exactly a perfect role model but she did what she had to . My dad was never really around. Always away on "work". Thats how it is. C an't change it.

I stepped into the bathtub and let the water burn my skin . The pain was comforting. My back stung incredibly. The tattoo on my back made it feel easier to cope with . I just sat there. For hours and hours I sat. I felt the tears run down my face. Tears of pain.

Pain eventually turned into anger as I stormed around the house breaking anything I could get my hands on. I didn't even notice the shards of glass on the floor until one pierce the skin of my foot. It was not the pain that woke me from my trance. It was the realization. I realized where I went wrong and what I had to do to make it right.

I made my way to the closet. After hours and hours of struggling I managed to push the closet onto the balcony. The closet tipped over and broke into pieces as its contents were sprayed all over the ground. I grabbed my trench coat and ran down the stairs.

I grabbed the pink lighter I always kept in my pocket as I hastily made my way to the garage. After rummaging through the contents of several dust caked boxes I found what i was looking for. I carried the canister in my left hand the lighter in my right. I unscrewed the lid and began to douse the closet with gasoline. Moving backwards I made a trail in a straight line. I threw the canister into the heap where the remains of the closet stood. I flicked the switch of the lighter and set the line on fire. They way the flame burned was beautiful . I laughed at the thought of the beauty of fire. Fire which burns with no mercy and leaves only ash as a reminder of its strength.

The cloud of smoke that the fire made was toxic. The stench was repulsive. I debated leaving the fire but my legs were planted firmly in the ground. I had to watch. This would only work if i watched. I had to see the closet burn . I had to watch or it would all be for nothing. After a while the smoke began to make my eyes water. I felt suffocated as my lungs were overwhelmed by the smoke. Still I refused to move.

It felt like hours had passed when I woke up. I found myself in the garden. The fire was slowly dying out . I coughed and struggled to breathe as I tried to crawl back to the house. The smoke had died down but not without damaging my lungs. I coughed violently as I struggled to maintain my consciousness . The cough became excruciatingly painful as blood began to run from my nose at a rapid rate. My eyes began to be surrounded by blackness as I struggled to breathe in and out. I tried to take calm deep breaths but they had no effect. I let the darkness cloud my vision as I passed out.