The Grim Reaper was always nearby, invading Tristan's thoughts to find the things he cared about most in this life to find a new target. Tristan had a new shadow this time, but he was beginning to accept the fact that his shadow killed the things that he held close to his heart.
The first time something loved about died, Tristan cheated on Sam that night with a boy he cared about. When he arrived home, the guilt of cheating on his partner was seemingly not enough punishment for his actions; Tristan's cat Evelyn died of kidney failure just a few hours later.
That was a coincidence, correct? Tristan had a good time, then his cat died. Coincidental. That was what people told him.
His other cat, Cow, was the only reason Tristan was holding on. Cow was a fucking blessing; he loved Tristan more than anything; the feeling was mutual.
After a year of Cow being perfectly healthy, his heart began to fail. According to the veterinarian, he was born with the condition. Cow was on his deathbed, thanks to the Reaper's quiet observation and tiptoeing around Tristan. Miraculously, Cow pushed through his condition, but he still has problems with his heart and the possibility of clots killing him instantly. The whole situation was fucking amazing.
The whole thing with Cow was a shock to everyone, but this time, there was no possible way this was a random occurrence. The Grim Reaper loved to torture Tristan, and he knew this was all the Reaper's doing.
Enough with the endless moping around, enough with the gut-wrenching, painfully numb darkness where Tristan's soul should reside. The remnants of the good parts were utter torture; as the good parts gradually became additions to the bad, Tristan felt like he needed to drink due to the nagging scratchy feeling in the back of his throat.
There was enough of the nothing inside of him to last several lifetimes. Tristan's family saw his desperation and finally surrendered — the war was over. Focalin was a part of daily life, a known part of the routine. His mother had her coffee when she woke up, and Tristan had his usual bump.
The formerly beloved daily ritual had grown old. There was no more games, no more hiding, no more manipulation. To put it in simple terms, Tristan was beyond the feeling of boredom.
He needed the reaper to drag Tristan out of his nothing and turn him into something. After all, everything that happened could be pinned on Tristan's mistakes.
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A Junkie's Journey
Nonfiksi"Who was he? Somewhere along the way, he had lost himself." Book Two Highest Rank - #589 in Non-Fiction
