Death or Glory.

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Walking slowly in the street, something suddenly became unbearable. There was a constant noise around me, human beings living loudly. I stopped dead in my tracks, although there was nothing I could do to lower the noise. It was just too much. They all communicated, yet so many things I needed to let out were left unsaid.

Some would say that life is, indeed, unfair but I don't think so. I just wasn't able to talk about my problems. Life hadn't anything to do with that. I might be unfair to myself, but that doesn't even make much sense.

I wasn't living. I knew that something, deep down, had died a long time ago. Something irreplaceable. Somehow, it was fascinating to see that a rough collage of the parts could make me stand still and go on with my life, no matter how fragile it really was.

"Be careful!" A cyclist yelled at me when he almost knocked me over.

What should I be careful for? I was just a living body trying to find its purpose in this city filled with other living bodies, more or less happy with their lives. I wasn't even a voice among others voices. I wasn't truly there. Something was definitely off, and I couldn't seem to fix it. Not here, where I knew almost everybody and they all witnessed me fuck up at some point.

There I was. I should move away from here, to start all over again. To finally get away.

"I'm sorry, but are alright? You've been standing there for a while, not doing anything." A girl said, watching me intensely.

She was making a lot of human noise. I could hear her heart beating, her breath speeding as the cold got further inside of her. She wore a coat that wouldn't keep her warm for hours.

"I'm just fine, thanks." I smiled. You become better at smiling falsely when you can train yourself almost everyday. I began to walk again, thinking.

"And merry Christmas." She whispered. When I turned around, she was sat on the small wall, just a few inches next to where we were standing a few seconds ago.

Something was weird with that girl. But I kept on walking to my flat anyway. There was nothing I could do about that, about her. However the fact that she asked if something was wrong made me hopeful. I actually came to the conclusion that nobody cared about anyone anymore. It's probably because of the last months I spent wondering if I was better off alone or dead.

These thoughts weren't what I needed on Christmas and so I decided to go to sleep before I'l eventually do something stupid.

Except that I couldn't manage to fall asleep. And so I got up again, pacing in my apartment until I found something to occupy me. That thing being a few drinks that I took and went to drink in the park, looking at the stars. And by a few, I mean that I lost the count of them.

After something like two hours of watching the stars, just trying to think about something positive, but failing miserably, I got up. Tried to, rather. My legs felt weak, as if I couldn't control them and the ground seemed to move by itself.

"Another thing I can't do." I muttered to myself.

I thought that if someone came to know about my life, they'd laugh at how stupid it was. How stupid I was for pushing everybody away. How bad could it possibly be if I felt pity for myself? What kind of people despise themselves?

I walked for a while, just trying to find my way home. But I lost myself. How ironic was it? I seriously didn't know where I was; I had never seen this part of the town.

"Just make it stop..." I whispered again.

I used to be the funny type of drunk guy, but I guess life damages people so much they can't even recognize themselves. And when they had no one to remind them of who they used to be, I guess the fight is already finished.

"Are you alright?" Someone asked me. I tried to focus on him, but I could barely make out his face.

"I don't need you." I let out. And he walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts again. Not that I didn't ask for it.

Misguiding thoughts, telling me that I don't need anyone, that I could make it by myself. I couldn't even go home, how was I supposed to live alone?

I heard a car braking before I could even notice its lights, but I didn't have the time to register that information that my body began to ache badly. But it surely could be much worse if the alcohol in my veins didn't shut off my nerves. I guess it was useful, for once.

When you think you deserve it, it doesn't happen. When you wish it got better, it didn't. A second is all it takes for something to happen. Or not to happen.

"Don't you wish you would've listened to us, dear Oliver?" Natasha asked, half frowning, half smiling.

"Don't you think you should've let me help you?" Lee added.

"Don't you believe we could've fixed you?" Nicholls said.

"Didn't you expect it to end like this?" Matt breathed out.

No. There was nothing I regretted. Nothing I wish I had done differently. And that might explain why I couldn't seem to focus on anything anymore, each second taking away another part of me, sucking the life out of me. There was no point in fighting when all the moves had already been made, when the outcome of the war had already been figured out.

It became colder, the lime light, the only thing I could see, was disappearing  with every passing minute.

Until...

...there....

....was....

....nothing....

....left.

Visions (Oliver Sykes)Onde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora