Torment and Affliction

Chapter 2

October 5th, 1986

*KIRK*

I never thought the amount of guilt one person could carry would eventually consume them and their conscious. I felt like I was barely living. Hell, was I living? I could have died. I could have been in Cliff's place. I could have been crushed by the bus.

But for some reason, I wasn't. Whether it was a miracle or a curse, I was alive and Cliff wasn't. What was my purpose? Why was it him and not me? Why wasn't it me? Why did Fate decide to keep me alive?

There were many questions I had but seemingly no answers. I raked through my brain and tried to decide for myself what the true reasons were but I couldn't. I was going mad and starting to believe the lies I was feeding myself everyday. What are you supposed to do when Fate decides that your best friend should be the one to die and you are kept alive?

I was suffering. I cried myself to sleep. I wished it was me. If Cliff could be here instead of me, I would trade my life in a heartbeat. It wouldn't matter if I died anyways. I lived in Dave Mustaine's shadow and that's where I would always stay because no matter what I did, everyone put me against Dave Mustaine. There was no end to the taunting and belittlement I endured because everything I did was always compared to him. It was like people didn't recognize me as Kirk Hammett. It's like I was just Dave's sucky replacement.

But one person kept me going and that was Cliff. When it got too much, he would come over and reassure me. He would tell me to keep going and keep playing despite what people say.

'Who gives a shit?' Cliff would say. 'At the end of the day, you are the guitarist of Metallica! It don't matter what Dave does and what he comes up with. He's got his own band, and you got Metallica. Everyone will always be divided, you know why? Because they can't handle the fact that we did what we did and never looked back again.'
Cliff would take a drag of his cigarette. 'Besides, Metallica and Megadeth will always be at the odds with each other because of the animosity. He has his issues with James and Lars, you just came here to do what you were told and that was to take his spot. You didn't kick him out, they did. At the end of the day, if the bands squash it and the fans don't, then that's their problem. You can't beat a dead horse.'

And he was right. You can't beat a dead horse. But why was I still dwelling on it? Why was I still dwelling on the fact that I was alive and Cliff wasn't? It was a continuous loop of grief and despair that I was going through and I didn't know what the hell to do about it. It ate me alive everyday. Every waking moment. Sleep was gone for me, I always had anxiety when I laid there on the bed, staring into the darkness and watching the shapes on the walls. My heart and brain were overloaded and I was sure I was either gonna' die of a heart attack or something else.

Sometimes I did fall asleep, but I would see Cliff in my dreams. And when I would awake, I would cry my heart out. Because that was the only time I could ever see him again. Feel him again. Touch him again. I missed my best friend, and I would never be able to experience memories with him ever again.

I was laying in bed again, unmoving and stiff. The hotel beds weren't the most comfortable thing, but they were the only thing comforting me. James was still closed up in his hotel room, and Lars, well, I didn't know where he was. He eventually stopped coming by to check on me, so I was left alone to my own devices. Which wasn't much. When I did get out of bed, I tried to snort coke or even light a joint up. But smoking just wasn't the same without Cliff. It was bittersweet when I smoked pot.

I rolled out of the bed, hitting the floor with a 'THUD' and a small groan. I clambered to my feet and walked to the bathroom, splashing water on my face and patting it dry. I stared at myself in the mirror. I could see why James broke it. Staring at yourself only made things worse.