Jet Black Hearts / l.h.

𝟐𝟒

Monday, October 28, 2018
3:00 a.m.
Around Town

I think I'm fading away. This medication has me up all night and exhausted all day. I am so drained, but whenever I close my eyes, they pop right back open. These past few nights I've gotten a total of maybe four hours of sleep.

As I'm taking a walk and thinking about how my death would be more of a blessing than a tragic event to my family and others around me, I'm sipping on my cup of coffee. The pills may have taken away most of my appetite, but nothing can efface my caffeine adoration. Since Dunkin' Donuts was closed, I had to get gas station coffee. Which, when on the topic of how pathetic my life is, makes me realize how everyone seems to be Starbucks coffee and I'm just gas station coffee.

Yeah. That's my mental state right now: comparing myself to gas station coffee.

I continue walking down the random street I'm on, not even caring where I am. The only light comes from the moon, stars, and occasional street light. Every house down the street is dark and looks dead.

My mind is in knots as I let it run wild. Usually I would try to shut it off or block out my intrusive thoughts, but I don't fight it. I let them take over me.

I don't notice that my coffee is empty until I go to take another sip and I come up with only a drop of the grainy remains.

I toss it into a garbage bin as I pass and quickly skim over my surroundings. A familiar little store front catches my eye.

Luke's grandparent's antique and flower shop.

My legs carry me to the front of the shop. I stare inside. It looks dead, too. Like the moon sucked the life out of it, and the sun gives it its life back.

I crane my neck and gaze at the moon. It reminds me of myself; sucking the life and happiness out of everything. But what, or who, is the sun? Who pushes the dark away so all that's left is light?

A sound comes from behind me. I turn sharply at the sudden break of the silence.

At first I see nothing in the darkness, but then I hear footsteps and turn my head to the right and squint.

A man is walking, a cigarette in between his teeth and one hand in his pocket.

I watch him, weary of his intentions as he nears. He didn't just come out of nowhere, he must be on his way somewhere, so he wouldn't bother me, right?

My heart thuds in my chest when his footfalls start to slow as he approaches me.

He takes a drag of the cigarette and takes it out of his mouth between two fingers. He puffs smoke into the humid air.

"What's a young woman like yourself doing out here so late?" He asks in a gravelly voice, looking me up and down.

My skin crawls. I clench my fists.

"Fuck off, old man."

He laughs, but it turns into a coughing fit. He wheezes a few times before recovering. He gives me a sickly smile with yellowing teeth.

"Wasn't trying anything." He steps closer. "Unless you wanted me to start something."

I step back and cross my arms, my hands still clenched tight. My voice catches in my throat and a small squeak comes out.

The man chuckles lowly and takes another step closer to me. Too close. Only centimeters away from me. Before I can move, he extends a shaky hand and grabs my arm.

I quickly retreat away from him. My arm falls from his greasy grasp. "Did I stutter?" I whimper, feigning confidence but failing. "I said fuck off, not fuck me."