Eager to die

"He smoked; he drank; he died..."

He stood there...Leaning against the wall....Trying to balance the bottle on his hand...
It fell, though...And broke.

The glass glittered in the yellow light... He raised his foot and stepped on it... But felt nothing...He smiled...Then chuckled...

'Come one, come all,' he said...

He chuckled, again...He took out the sqashed packet of cigarettes from his pocket...Burned one and took a puff...

Within seconds the place smelled...disgusting.

He inhaled. Deeply. He could feel the soothing nicotine going inside his nares. He sighed.

Minutes were left. He knew it. Minutes that were taking so long to pass.
He smiled, yet again. "Come to the last of me, I say."

No one replied to his invitation. He threw the cigarette away. "I said, Come!!" He screamed this time.

Still, silence. It frightened him.

And then the pain. Nausea. Vomit. Blood. Everywhere.

He sat there, on the broken glass, surrendered to pain, to fear, to drugs.

"Come...to me..." He whispered.

He could feel it coming. The devil. It was there. Somewhere. Near.

He smiled. "Finally."

He held out his hand. The devil took it.

"The glass, it hurts me inside."


He rips open the bag...In a rush. The heroin smells awfully wonderful...The alcohol's sweet and sensational. He feels he is in heaven.

Alexis calls him. She's holding her teddy bear and wants him to read her a story. She doesn't know it's not the right time. He grabs the remote control, the first thing that comes in his reach, and throws at her. Missed. She starts crying and runs upstairs.



He could still hear her cry. He knows she won't come out. He felt a tear on the corner of his swollen eye.

"Let's go."

The devil smiled in affirmation.