Black ice was scattered on the road. The harsh wind blew in swiftly, tossing dead leaves around. I looked out the fogged up window of the house, on the decaying second floor. The floor boards I stood on were moist, and layered with dust. Sudden movements caused them to creak and moan. This room used to be the study at one point. Books used to fill the entire room on high oak shelves, all polished and primed. I had spent many times in the study, consuming books like water. The room had once smelled of paper, and ink. Not anymore though. The majority of the shelves had either rotted away, or the nails had gotten loose and had fallen off. Some books managed to stay solid over the years, but they just sat there collecting dust.
I wrote her name on the window in cursive. 'Why do I bother?' I thought. 'Why do I bother dwelling in old memories?'
I backed away from the window sill and sighed as I left the room, hearing the floor boards moan in unison.

As for the garden, it was no longer intact. It had become a garden of tattered weeds. Where the roses once stood, were now dead weeds. The swing that used to hang in the middle of the pathway had fallen down years ago. The chains it was used to hang by were now rusty and broken. Lell used to love the swing. She'd spend hours on it just watching thinking. I picked up a dead weed and crumbled it with my hand, and watched the dried up remains fall to the ground.
* * * *

Hazy mist covered the streets. Drivers on their way to their night jobs drove slowly. I walked down the cracked sidewalks, passing by the people of the night; Lost children, disowned teenagers, high school dropouts, and lost men and women. I didn't know where I was going, but within an hour, I would find out. Some person's soul would seem dimmer than everyone else's. They would carry a heavy burden upon their shoulders, which they seem to push farther back in to their mind.
I walked into a liquor store that sat behind an old insurance building. This liquor store was known for its late hours, and many choices. If you were smart, you would go here. But most people went to party stores that withheld alcohol, kids’ chewing gum, and plenty of candy. I walked through the door to greet the smell of a burning cigarette. The cashier sat in a chair at the register, and smoked a Marlboro. I browsed through the many shelves of rum, hard liquor, whisky, wine, and other means of alcohol. The man of about thirty-six, who sat at the register smoking, was looking out the store window. He had messy brown hair and was wearing a hunting jacket.
I wondered to myself, 'What is he thinking? Is he just waiting until 1:00am to arrive so that he can go to bed?'
I continued to look at shelf after shelf when I noticed a bottle of Chenin Blanc wine.
Lell had always loved it.
My head suddenly hurt, and the memories flooded back. I grabbed the bottle and quickly walked to the register, and set my purchase down.
The man sighed and said, "15.90."
Reaching into my jacket pocket I pulled out a $20.00 bill, and said, "Keep the change."
The man nodded, and then continued taking drags on his cigarette, after putting the wine in a brown bag.
I left the store and stopped twenty feet away from it. I felt a presence. As if someone was right behind me. I turned around and saw no one. My body started walking back to the store. That's when I saw him. He parked his car, and then walked into the liquor store. He was wearing a real leather jacket, and he had tousled brown hair to his ears. His soul emitted, and his body frame held fuzzy edges of green. He looked about twenty-three. I went into his mind. I could only read so far. He was angry, and cold, but he had money. To drain away his feelings, he felt getting drunk was the cure. He had obviously done it many time before, because his mind was slurred with alcohol from past drinking binges.
Why he was mad, was a locked door. People try to block things in their mind as to not remember. He was doing it right now, and his name, was Charlie.
Leaving his mind, I set my wine on the ground and waited along the side of the store. My plan of action was to follow him until he was drunk enough to let go of why he was mad. That's when I would strike. Charlie needed me badly. He just didn't know it. I stood there for about five minutes. I watched as he walked out of the store holding two 6 packs of Bud Light. Opening one, he slugged a good half of it down, and walked down the street. Drinking beer after beer, I followed close behind, watching intently every time he finished one, and tossed it into the street. He eventually started walking a bit unevenly around his 6th one.
He was halfway through the last pack when he stood up against a building and sighed. Now was the time. I hid behind a forgotten parked car. He had no idea I was there. Reaching inside his mind, I searched for his reason for being angry. I saw flashes of a girl. I saw flashes of Charlie hitting this girl over and over again. I could hear no sound, but I saw tears streaming down her face. The next thing I saw was her hitting him back and mouthing something that I wasn't able to read. Whatever she said, it shocked Charlie or something, because he stopped hitting her, and watched as she ran off. That’s when the memories cut short. I now saw Charlie continuing to drink. His thoughts made no sense.
‘Was he mad at what the girl had said?’ I thought.
Was it possible he knew her from a personal relationship?
There was only one other way to figure it out. I had no other choice but to ask him.
Appearing from behind the car, I acted as if the worst possible thing happened to me. There was no need for me to make something up. I had been hurt in the worst possible way already.
As I walked around the car, I mumbled words of anguish that could only amount to the name, Lell.

“Hey? Is something wrong?” Charlie asked while finishing his 5th one, and throwing it into the street.
“She left me!” I said angered, “The fucking left me!”
“Yeah. Women do that often. We’re all better off hiring hookers and leaving feelings out of it all.” He said with a bit of slur in his speech.
I looked at the ground and saw his second pack of Bud Light.
“Mind if I have one?” I asked.
He looked down, as if he forgot it was there, and said, “Go ahead.”
I picked two of them up, and handed one to him.
“Women are an endless puzzle. They speak their own language or something. They live in their own world.” He slurred.
“What’s your story?” I asked opening my drink.
“Honestly,” he said looking out to the street, “I’m not really sure of my story. Everything that happened has been fused together. I remember one thing, but when it happened, something else could have happened.”
For a moment I would have thought he was sober.
“Were you high?” I asked putting the bottle to my lips.
Charlie nodded and said, “Coke. But it should have been fading by the time everything happened. Coke isn’t usually a long lasting high for me.”
“Was it your girlfriend?” I wondered.
He looked at me and shook his head kind of like a child would.
“Ex-Girlfriend,” he stated slowly, “She has come crawling back to me. She left me for some guy who lives up town in the nicer estates. After four weeks maybe, she came back to me, bawling her eyes out about how he used her for sex. I feel sorry for her now, but when she told me, my heart just couldn’t take it.”
“What happened after that?”
“I guess I snapped or something. I remember being so mad, and suddenly I realized how bad she had hurt me. So, I started hitting her. When your heart is toyed with like a puppet, there is nothing else to do. That was when she said the worst thing ever.”
Charlie went into a blank stare and looked down at his shoes. He was wearing black Nikes. He cocked his head as he looked at the ground, and I thought I saw his face contort in pain. Taking a long drink, he finished off the bottle, and broke it against the building wall.
“I hope you don’t mind if I do this.” he mumbled.
Taking the broken glass, pulled up his coat sleeve and cut the side of this wrist.
My limbs strained, and my eyes started to burn.
I heard him sigh, and he looked up at me.
“Childish, I know, but it helps.” he said, wiping away the access blood.
Suddenly, he seemed no longer drunk.
“You shouldn’t do that you know.” I said looking at the sky.
“I’ve been doing it for six years now.”
“Why?” I asked.
“It’s like breathing.”
“Why did you start?”
“My friend said it would make everything better. So, I tried it, and it became addictive.”
“You know, cutting is like a teenage girl habit. It’s habit for anyone who craves attention.”
“Dude, don’t walk into territory your unfamiliar with.” He said.
“Don’t be so quick to think I’m unfamiliar with this type of self destruction. I’ve been in many situations like that. I’m just saying, a young man such as you should be able to move on. Am I right?”
“If you know so much about it, then do it right now, he yelled, “Slit your wrists right to the vein and bleed to death why don’t cha!”
“I’d think that would be your wish, but no that’s not your purpose Charlie. Your purpose is to bring back something that is now no more. Why did you really start?”
“How the fuck do you know my name?!”
“Answer the question Charlie. Was it the woman you were talking about earlier?”
He looked uncomfortable and his posture was slouched. I thought he wasn’t going to answer when he said, “Why did you start?”
“You’re avoiding the question Charlie. Just get it out. This girl broke up with you and you acted like a child, and started cutting.”
“Fuck off! I didn’t! I’m over her! I swear!” he shouted.
“Come on Charlie! Face it; this woman broke your heart. She took your heart, and as you said, ‘Toyed with it like a puppet’. “
He was starting to talk when suddenly he became silent, and sputtered out softly, “Emily.”
With that, he collapsed onto the sidewalk, and passed out completely.
I picked up his last few Bud Lights and discarded them into a nearby trashcan. Picking him up by his arms, I dragged Charlie to his car back at the liquor store. It was about a three minute distance. After reaching the car, I opened the drivers side door, and setting his torso onto the seat, I picked up his legs and laid them on the floor of the car. I shut his door, and looked to the liquor store window. The man who had been working there all night was looking at me through the window.
I winked at him, turned around, and walked back to where I had set my wine.

Morning came and still Charlie lay asleep. I was amazed because hours before, he had seemed so sober, and suddenly, he had passed out. As I watched him sleep, I occupied the back seat of the car. My wine was empty, and although Charlie was starting to come to, his eyes stayed closed.
His limbs would twitch now and then, and he grunted a couple times. The suns rays didn’t hit us yet, and the streets were hardly occupied as Charlie’s car sat in a back alley parking lot. The only other car was the man who owned the liquor store. He lived in the upper part of the building. Around 1:00, he had locked up the sore, and turned out the store lights. I had watched as the building’s lights flickered through the top windows.
By the time 9:00am rolled around, I was set on leaving so that I could get cleaned up, and possibly check on Charlie. As I started to get out of my seat, Charlie moaned.
I continued on getting out and shut the passenger side door. I walked around to the other side and stood there until the door opened. Charlie emerged and he looked at me with a dazed look on his face.
Suddenly, he realized who I was.
“Stay away from me!” he said in a panic, and slammed the door.
He scrambled to the other side of the car and said, “What do you really want? I’ll give it to you! Whatever it is, you’ll get it.”
“You’re acting like I’ve got a gun to your head. I just want to know why you cut. I want to know why you intend to suffer.”
“You want to know why!? Fine, her ya go, I do it because I’m addicted. Happy!?” he shouted.
“You’re lying again Charlie. I think it’s deeper than that. You still suffer everyday from whatever happened. That’s why you go on drinking binges to numb the pain. No need for a job, mom and daddy fix that don’t they?”
“How the hell do you know that!?” he asked confused.
“Stop avoiding and hiding the pain, Charlie. Open up to me!”
“You sound like…” he cut off.
“Like who?”
“Never mind, I don’t remember.”
“Like who Charlie? Like Emily? Is that the girl you’ve suffered over the past five years?”
He was silent and stood there looking at the car’s hood.
“What did she say to you that day you were hitting her? Did she stay stop avoiding the pain or something similar? Come on…tell me, and I’ll leave you be.”
Still he said nothing. His eyes moved over me, and when they finally met mine, he ran. I stood in the same spot, and watched his actions. He ran to the other side of the car, right in front of me, and opened the door. He rummaged around and pulled out a simple army knife. I knew what he was about to do.
“You want to know what she said!?” he yelled, “You want to fucking know what she said!?
I nodded.
Charlie walked up to me and said almost in a whisper, “She said, ‘Charlie Richards, no amount of cutting will save you from yourself.”
He collapsed to the ground and in full force, he deeply slit his wrist.
Almost immediately, the blood started to leak, and once it did, it wouldn’t stop.
Charlie sat on the ground looking at the blood and tears pouring down his cheeks. He had finally let it go.
I went into his car and found a sweatshirt. I took his arm and wrapped the sweatshirt around it tightly. He didn’t try to stop me. A pool of blood was on the asphalt. It looked black from my view.
“I’m…I’m finished. No more.” He sputtered.
As I tended his wound, he mumbled to himself and cursed to someone who wasn’t there. I watched him shake his head frequently and say, “She’s gone. Emily is gone.”
That was when he started laughing. I sat on the ground with him as he started to laugh hysterically. I stood up and walked out of the parking lot to the sound of Charlie’s laughter as he beat on his rusted car.