There comes a time when life stops. When it is to hard to live, so you can only survive. I know that there is a set date that we will all die on, and I live in fear of that date, because I want to leave a mark. But I also know that somewhere out there, there is someone that can fix me because I am broken.
11:11. He didn't move, he only wished. He'd never seen a reason to wish on at 11:11, they never came true - though, he had never been as desperate as he was then.
Matt had left work without alerting anyone, his phone was blown up with messages from Steven and Arthur, Karen hadn't bothered to text him. He was alone. He shuffled over to the fridge and glanced inside, alcohol. He grabbed a bottle of beer and downed iy, hoping to forget recent events. Perhaps if he turned the music up loud enough it would drown out his sorrows. He blasted it.
Nothing.
He took another drink.
And another.
And another.
Then one more.
His vision was hazy, almost as if it were in black and white. His senses were completely knocked out. He stumbled around the appartment, slurring words that described his misery.
All he head was a quiet knock on the door and a small voice calling his name. He had grown to loath his name, all anyone used it for was shouting at him.
He pushed his head to the wall and slid his body down it, eyes closed.
It took a moment to admit, but he knew he was scared.
And he didn't know what to do.
-
Matt woke up on time the next morning, at 7:00 his phone went off with his alarm. The smell of alcohol filled his nose, he trudged out of bed, his head spinning and pounding. He went over to the fridge and to get a bottle of water, he downed it. Then another. Then another. He slammed the fridge door closed. As he closed the door, he noticed a figure lying on the couch. Matt couldn't make out much, but he saw that she was ginger. He walked over and pushed the hir away from her face, he saw th bags under her eyes and the tear stanes at the sides of her face.
He didn't dare wake her up or help her, he just left her to sleep.
Matt hadn't forgotten about her. He couldn't forget about her. It seemed that no matter how much he drowned out the throughts, or how many times he tried to forget her name: it would never happen.
A single tear rolled from his eye and he slowly walked to his shower, but he wouldn't let himself cry. He couldn't .
Boiling water snaked over Matt's skin, burning him, but he didn't care. His skin was blood red, it hurt to move though he did anyay. He got out of the shower, walking to his closet. He wore jeans and a black top, nothing interesting. Matt grabbed some keys and shoved his shoes on, not caring to style his hair or check the mirror. Only then did he notice the figure on the couch had gone, laughing slightly he began to assume that it was just his mind playing tricks - that there was never anyone there.
He drove to work with his head down, people stared at him often, but most threw him pitiful looks. It took him a moment to figure out why, but he soon realized; the story had hit the news. He'd known it wouldn't take long, yet he wasn't quite prepared for it. Matt knew he'd have to go into work and face Steven and Arthur telling him that they were 'there for him', he didn't believe that. No one was there for him. No one cared. No one.
He arrived at work at 7:56. The car park was almost empty, since they didn't start filming until 8:30 that day. Matt walked in, no one was there to greet him. It felt strange to be alone. He was hardly ever alone. Just days ago he would have woken up to her beautiful face beside him. He would never see that face again. Matt stared blankly into space, reliving everything they'd ever done together.
He walked into the break room. 'The break room,' as everyone called it, had dark blue walls and a small table in the middle. It was where people would go to take a break from everything that was happening. The break room only had one rule; it had to be silent.
Matt sat on a dull grey chair and put his head into his hands. He wanted to scream. He wanted to shout. He couldn't. He slammed his fist against the table, angry. Why her? Why not me? He thought, pulling at his hair until it came out. It wasn't long before his anger turned back into sadness and he found himself crying into the lonely table. No one came for him. Except Karen.
She knocked politely at the door, "can I come in?" Karen asked. Matt looked up at her from the table, he didn't react. Karen walked in.
"Look, Matt. I know it's not fine right not but everything will be okay-"
He looked up at her, rage in his eyes, "No it won't," Matt sulked, head buried in his hands, "it's shit."
"Yeah, it's pretty shit," Matt looked surprised that Karen would agree with him, all he expected was for her to throw meaningless sympathy sayings at him. Matt dared to look up at her, Karen laughed. "You're just determined to disagree with me, aren't you?"
Matt half-smiled, "maybe. Maybe not. I'd rather not comment."
"You're really something," Karen murmered. For a small moment, Matt smiled, but grief quickly overtook his face again. There was an awkward silence between the two for about ten minutes, both of them in deep thought.
Karen took a deep breath and let out a shaky sigh, "I saw you last night."
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