Living the Dream

One Last Time

Shawn's POV

I dragged the polluted air into my lungs and released it right back out. A cloud of vapor puffed from my lips as I walked down Lake Street late on this chilly night, careful of vandals and criminals looking for trouble. Sometimes even I need to get away from the things that I love, though I wouldn't say I love her. Not like I have the choice, seeing as all she's done lately has been spending her precious time with the boy with the broken heart.

You can tell he's lonely, depressed you could say. His body wasn't the only thing that took a beating after that crash. The accident brought out something indistinguishable from Sam, something she refuses to see with her naked eye let alone her heart. I don't want to put ideas in her head, so I stay out of it as much as possible.

But what am I supposed to do? She was all I'd ever care to put effort into, besides music, which has become meaningless lately. Passing the time playing guitar all day does get tiring and unsatisfying, and after a while just plain boring. The ideas that were once pouring from my head had now ceased to almost nothing, and there's nothing for me to do. I sink into my misery as of late. I'd rather write poems than songs, because there's a difference between them to me. A difference that I can't explain, and that's why I suck at writing poems.

This street was dirty, rough, and harsh. The air swayed, still yet windy. Stale, I would consider it, but circulating. This was an odd town. Every tight breeze, any slight noises would work me up and I would imagine a murder that could quite possibly happen to someone like me, a slender kid with no knowledge of this city being taken advantage of by a Chicagoan looking for- I don't know, a back for his blade. A brain for his bullet.

Possibly the fact that these stories flooded my mind made me race back to the hotel. Possibly these stories flooding my mind caused me to lose track of my location, and the fear took over. I tried not to panic, but internally I was screaming. Sam was really the one I needed here, and my thoughts were brought back to her. She knew the streets, the city, the layout of the neighborhoods. She's told me about her encounter with the Crips, the Bloods, the mischievous gangs that let her off the hook when she impressed them with her skills in getting out of sticky situations. She'd know to walk not run, because that's obviously suspicious. She'd know to look down and inattentive as she passed by other pedestrians, not knowing who they really were or what their intentions are. She'd know the precise proximity of the hotel, she'd know where we were headed in the first place. Street lamp after street lamp, stop sign after green light she'd know where to go. But I had no clue. Not even a simple idea anymore of which direction to head. I was lost in every sense of the word.

The buzz of my phone saved me from dreaming up more unbearable situations. I felt another puff of smoke roll off my tongue and I realized it had gotten colder and much darker than when I set out on this mistaken journey. What was I thinking, what am I ever thinking now? I grabbed my phone from my scratchy coat pocket and shoved it up to my face, hopefully looking occupied to the people approaching me.

Sleeping with Matthew tonight, see you tomorrow.

What a surprise. Sam and Matt sleeping together again, I could only remember when she wanted to crawl in bed with me at night instead of the boy with the broken heart. I started thinking of her words not literally but sexually, picturing her and Matt "sleeping together"... lord help me. The imagery consumed my mind and I felt sick to the point where I gagged over a trash can at the side of the road. Part of my disgust was the fear that I would have to sleep on the streets tonight, seeing as I couldn't ask for directions because I didn't know our hotel address. But the other part was much more sickening to me. That she was falling in love with another man.

My stomach growled and I felt my lips curve into a frown. My insides felt like they were twisting and my stomach felt like it was eating itself. I decided it was time to get some food, even if it's some greasy McDonalds crap.