The Long Road Out of Hell


 

he was heading down a darkened path that he’s never known before. no light, only darkness. the GPS on his phone no longer worked, just a jumbled mess of pixels appearing underneath the cracked screen. he couldn’t remember if he dropped the phone or smashed it in a fit of rage. raging against anything and everything just to feel alive again. he sat down in the alleyway still unaware of his surroundings. he reached into his jacket and pulled out his flask, he filled it with rum, not his first choice in liquor but it was the only thing available to him before he left his house. he had no destination in mind, and didn’t know the walk would eventually find him lost. he thought about calling someone for help, but he couldn’t think of anyone to reach out to. over 50 contacts were in his cracked phone but he didn’t want to burden anyone. he could try to make someone the scapegoat but in the end he realized that this was entirely all his fault. he took a swig from the flask and made a face of disgust. while he did not care for the taste, it was doing its job of numbing him of the pain. he laughed at the irony of it all. there he was lost in a strange part of town trying to wash away his fears and anxiety but at the same time wanted something, anything to get back on track of living. he was alive but no longer living. he had gone months now wishing away his life for things that were unattainable. he took another sip and this time it wasn’t so bad. he was getting used to the taste and that put a new fear into him. he had been drinking more lately, but he dismissed it off as just a phase that he’s been known to go through every now and again. this was different now though, he was afraid that he was using it for assistance out of this long road from hell. he then wondered if maybe it was the cause that brought him down to this hell in the first place. he lost all track of time, not knowing how long he’d been walking before he found the alleyway to rest. he wondered if anyone noticed he was gone. he felt sick and alone. he thought for sure the battery on his phone died but was mistaken when he heard it ringing. no longer able to tell who was calling through cracked glass, he answered the phone.

 

“hello?” he said

“where are you?” she asked.

“who is this?”

“you know damn well who this is.”

“oh, hi. what’s up?”

“what’s up? that’s all you have to say?”

“it’s a start.”

“where are you?” she repeated.

“in hell,”

“no really.”

“i don’t know. i was walking and got lost.”

“look on your phone’s GPS.”

“i can’t, it’s cracked. can’t see a thing.”

“you broke your phone?”

“yes, don’t know if it was on purpose or an accident.”

“have you been drinking?”

“a little bit.”

“what have you been drinking?”

“rum.”

“you don’t even like rum.”

“i know.”

“i’m worried about you.”

“don’t be.”

“what brought you to this?”

“the meaningless of it all. there’s no point to any of it.”

“there is a point. you have to believe that.”

“at this moment in time, i can’t”

“okay, but there will be a moment that you will.”

“maybe.”

“good, then that’s a start.”

“i guess.”

“come home.”

“i can’t.”

“you can’t or you won’t?”

“i can’t. i’m lost.”

“in hell?”

“that’s what it feels like.”

“i’ll find you.”

“what?”

“i’m coming to bring you home. look for the cross streets and i’ll find you.”

with her words a glimmer of hope fell upon him and upon that realization he broke down into tears. things might not be as bad as he thought, possibly there might even be a turn for the better. he wiped his eyes. he was going home.

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