Drown.

He didn't know it. He was drunk on vodka. He lay there. He couldn't move. He didn't know it, but he took her name. She never came.
He sat. He thought. He imagined her with someone else. He foiled his own mind. It made him angry. It hurt like hell. It made him sad.
The start was good. So good. So happy. So carefree. So dreamy. So unreal. Too unreal. Too careless. Too fast. Too stupid. How could he be so stupid?


He dragged himself along the floor. There was shattered glass and alcohol all over. The strong smell of weed. The piercing sound of silence.
The floor was bathed in red. He looked up. Everything was shiny. Everything was blue. He saw her, but she wasn't there. It wasn't fair.
Everything he thought never happened, happened. He didn't know it. They happened when he slept.
He just didn't know it.
He was sleeping.