I Think He Has Lost It

He wakes up, thinking today is just a normal day. Pulls on that old blue work shirt and rubs his eyes to wash away the sand from the sleeping man. Little did he know that his phone would ring and change his whole life. The voice on the other line tells him his cousin is dead...a suicide from heroin overdose. 

He's losing his mind, but he has to keep himself together, he has work. He walks into work, and everyone is staring at him. "You don't look so good," they say. He wants to scream. No shit, I don't look so good! He wants to yell at them, but he knows they don't know the news. He can't do this. His boss calls him into her office. "I need the day off tomorrow, I have a funeral to go to." She doesn't ask and he doesn't tell her as tears fill his swollen eyes. He's losing it more and more, he can't keep this up for long. She tells him to just go home. He leaves as fast as he can, running all the way to his garage.

He goes inside and smokes a bowl hoping that will ease his pain. He cried as his sadness slowly shifts to anger. "He was SIXTEEN!" he yells, "God damn it! He was too young!" He yells as he cracks open a can of beer. He just doesn't care anymore. His girlfriend is worried about him, and he doesn't care. He just drinks one beer after another. How many has he had now? He tries to recall, but he lost track after the eleventh one. His mom yells at him. She tells him her cousin was a piece of shit anyways and that he's just drowning his life in alcohol.

 He needs to fight. He aches for a fight. He calls his buddy and they go to their old fight club. Everyone here knows how he fights and no one dares fight him at a time like this. He needs a fight; he is going to go crazy. Some brave soul volunteers and thinks he can beat him. They get in the ring and he doesn't care anymore. He throws the first punch and after that he is gone. He doesn't remember much of the fight. All he sees is blood and the kid is on the floor. He begins to panic... but he notices his breathing. Good, he's still alive. The kid was new, but he still should have known not to fight him. Once he gets hit in the face he's gone. He blacks out and loses it, demolishing anything in his way. Everyone knows not to hit him in the face.

He gets a ride home and goes straight for the fridge. His hands start to ache as he opens another beer. He wants to be numb and this is the only way he knows how to get rid of the pain. He takes some sleeping pills as he finishes the can. He gets into bed hoping to sleep the pain away.

His girlfriend is starting to worry. She doesn't know how he is going to handle all of this. She's texted him and called him, but has gotten no reply. She is starting to freak out. The last thing she got from him was a simple text saying, "I'm fighting tonight." She begged him not to, but still no reply. She knows how he gets and she made him promise he wouldn't fight anymore, but he went fighting. This made her worry so much. It's been fourteen hours and she has no reply. She is starting to fear the worst. He could be in the hospital.. or jail.. or he could be dead.. She remembers all the promises he made her. She can hear them clear in her head. The promise of their marriage and their little baby girl. She knew it was all too good to be true. She bites her lip as she stresses herself out... and he doesn't care. She thinks about the time they went to the mall to look for baby clothes. She thinks about the time they went to Ogden to look at wedding rings. She told him she was too young. Why did she have to tell him that? She doesn't know if he is okay... She worries that this could be the end and she ruined it all. She worries that he could be dead and the only reason she didn't marry him was because she was... "too young.." She always hopes for the future, but with him.. She never knows. She cries in her room, unsure of his safety.

He wakes up from a million texts from her, but he doesn't care. He turns off his phone and grabs another beer. She is starting to worry and he doesn't care. He gets in his truck and starts to drive. He knows he doesn't have a license and he's not good at driving angry. He doesn't care though. Why should he care? He drives as fast as he can. He doesn't know where he is going and he doesn't care. He screams and loses himself in another beer. He is so done with everything... and he doesn't even care. I think he has lost it.. and he doesn't feel a thing.