More Than a Little Fond

Who I was then, isn't who I am now

    Mid-morning, birds of all kinds basking in the warm summer sky filled with delicate white  clouds, and an alarm on a nightstand, beeping contently.  This was the life Alex Kralie had now been accustomed to, ever since the horrible incident had occurred.  The one that happened just a year ago, almost leaving the man lifeless in an graffitied abandoned hospital.  

    After said incident had taken place, he had became himself again, finally not under the spell the operator had on him anymore.  He knew he had to get away from everything that had happened, he yearned to forget it all, wishing for everything that took place to simply wind up as one horrible nightmare.  The truth of the matter, was that the events of the past were all very real, none of the trauma could be erased from the troubled man's mind.  Even though it was a whole 12 months later, the memories still replayed over and over again each day like that of a broken record, seeing himself commit ungodly acts almost from a 3rd person perspective.

    Now there stood the very man that survived it all, in puppy-dog boxers (ironic, right?), a loose fitting tee, a cup of coffee in hand, and a face that made it clear there wasn't a happy emotion in his body.  He hid out in a cottage on the outskirts of town next to 2 large fields that blocked people passing by to see the little wooden structure from the road.  The crimes he committed, murder and arson, couldn't be undone.  There is no way he could live out in the open again.

    Alex is a smart man though, he knows how to hideout.  He only uses cash and doesn't go into town unless he absolutely has to.  He doesn't know if the police know he is the man who killed his friends, but he knew he didn't want to find out, he knows he was definitely a suspect.  He would've also been questioned police at that point, though no one could find his whereabouts.

   His feet shuffle down the hall and into bathroom, where he takes off his glasses, and turns on the rust speckled faucet.  He splashes the cool water on his face, grunting at the sudden temperature change.  He blindly reaches for a rag on the tiled counter, and pats his face dry.  Before leaving the bathroom he places his glasses back on his face once again, accidentally making eye contact with himself in the mirror.

    He had shaved recently, leaving only subtle stubble along his jaw.  His eyes though, seem more gray, more grim- as if they had lost the light that was once there.  The brunette hair on his head is messy and unkempt.  He doesn't look at himself that often, there is no point, though every time he sees himself he always feels so guilty, so criminal, so... empty.

    Of course he has told himself a number of times who he was then, was not the person he was now, though that phrase never made a difference.  Even if he knows that, no one else does, he is a monster to them, alienated because of that horrid creature.  He is insecure, lonely, guilty, and most of all, empty.

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Ay y'all, sorry this is trash lmao Brian will be in the next chapter, I s w e a r r r r .  I didn't really know how to start this and just ended up with this, so uh yeah lmao. #notmybestwork                       So uh- oof, see you guys in the next chapter I guess lmao- that is if you keep reading about a Marble Hornets crack ship about two idiots pining each other.