As he sat there, lurking in the shadows, he somehow knew this would be the last time he ever got to see the sun rise. He would give anything to feel those first few perfect rays of the morning sunshine on his face, to feel their mystical, almost addictive, intoxicating powers, but it was too late for that now. He had given up his chance for that single moment, that feeling of perfection in his life. All he had now was the moon to hold her sway over him, with her “borrowed” light.
When he looked in the mirror, all he could see was a reflection, a shell, of what he used to be. He was happy once, but now…nothingness. He could see the skin as it slowly decayed off of his face, the flesh falling into the sink in front of him, as if he were already dead and buried, but that was how he felt these days anyway. He often wondered what would happen if he were to just let go, let himself fall into the oblivion that had become the only thing he had known.
It was all her fault. She was the one that made him feel like this, lonely, useless, insignificant. Every word she said was like liquid fire, burning into the depths of his soul. Her words echoed in his head, teasing him. He woke in the night, screaming her name into the darkness, for no one but himself to hear. Did she ever think of him? He couldn’t go on living like this, it had to end.