Down, down, down, I go.
CHAPTER 39
CAMPBELL
Something furry tickles at the skin on my arm, but the fucking jackhammer pounding into my skull is making it hard to open my eyes and see what it is.
I can hear traffic from nearby, but it almost sounds as if it's right next to my head.
Tendrils of confusion cloud any coherent thoughts, making it hard to make sense of anything.
My body groans and protests when I roll from my side onto my back, and I come to an alarming realization that I'm on the cold, hard groundoutside.What the fuck?
With effort, I squint my eyes open and take a second to focus on the strip of sky above me as well as a fire escape. The tickling on my arm starts up again, and I slowly drop my head to the side to see that it's a rat sniffing around.
“Shit,” I mumble as I shove it away and scramble to get up.
The movement has my stomach churning, threatening to empty all of the contents, so I stay sitting and shuffle my back to the wall, dropping my head back and squeezing my eyes shut.
“I hope you didn't have anything valuable on you. You were robbed 'bout an hour ago.” My eyes fly open and land on an old man sitting amongst some cardboard and newspaper, holding a bottle in a brown paper bag. “You've been out cold for a bit.”
Everything comes rushing back to me in a montage of images and conversations; this past week, walking to the restaurant,Jasmine, throwing some cash at this guy and then drinking his bottle of booze like it was water in a desert.
With a groan, I return to my previous position with my head dropped back and my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose. I don't give a fuck about what they stole from me. I already lost the most important thing to me.
Our conversation replays in my mind, spinning around and around, increasing the throbbing in my head and twisting my stomach. I didn't even ask her how she was, even though I wanted to know. I didn't tell her that I'm sorry about Walter, even though I am. And I didn't tell her how beautiful she was, even though it killed me to see the tears in her eyes.
A waft of garbage and piss mixed with something that stinks like rotting meat hits my nose, and my gut revolts. Leaning over, I empty the contents of my stomach right on the ground beside me, adding to all the other shit that's already there.
It hits me hard in this second that this is where I slept. A new fucking low for me.
Dropping my head back against the wall, I stare ahead at the old guy drinking from his bottle,livingin this filth.
That's where my life is headed.
Does it even matter?
What do I have to live for?
My gaze drops to the ground. This isnothow I want my life to be. So why do I keep fucking it up and pushing myself to be this way?
It's not going to free Jacob.
It's not going to bring Jason back.
And it's not going to ever let me keep someone like Jasmine.
A few random business cards lay scattered amongst the other shit on the ground, and I stare at one that catches my attention. The two letters written in the top corner keep my eyes attached to it, and I hear Jasmine's words,“You need help,”echoing through my head.
What the fuck would she think of me at this moment?
I certainly wouldn't be winning her over.
I reach for the dirty card and flip it back and forth between my fingers a few times. If I want any of this to change, if I ever want Jasmine to look at me differently. I need to make some changes.
Pushing to my feet, I stay bent at the waist for a moment, making sure I'm not going to hurl again. And then, I shuffle my way toward the street. I don't even know what time it is, just that the sunshine is too bright and hurts my eyes.
After several weird looks from people passing by, I catch sight of myself in a window and realize why. Unsurprisingly, I look like I crawled out of the gutter. I guess crawling out of an alley is close, if not worse. Looking at myself sends a wave of shame and disgust rushing through me, and I want to smash the glass in front of me just so that I don't have to look at it.
