So, here we go. It’s January 2018 and I’m still doing the same old
shit. I’m not doing the job I know I should be doing, and I’m clearly not the
type of person that I should be. The face in the stained bathroom mirror is not
the one I’m used to seeing. My eyes are even more sunken and bloodshot and my
teeth don’t even look like they belong in my mouth. I’ve let myself go a lot in
the past twelve months. This time two years ago I was fresh-faced and athletic,
but I lost sight of what I should be doing and became…this.
My head is still fuzzy and my legs feel like they’re asleep. I
can’t tell if it’s the usual sea birds I’m hearing or if that’s just my ears
ringing. Stumbling, I lean in to grab the sink before quickly realising it’s full
of vomit. Whoever did this is probably still passed out face down in the front
room after whatever happened last night. Recoiling, I try to gain balance by
leaning back on the towel rail. I’ve forgotten what alcohol does to the body,
especially when combined with a lack of food. I’ve really not been eating as
much as I should be lately. The outlines of my ribs are beginning to rise out
of my skin and I honestly can’t believe that I let myself get like this. I look
like a bloody junkie and I’m weaker than a starving dog.
When I first came here I knew exactly what I wanted, and actually
had a plan to get that. That plan didn’t involve finding a cheap place to live
and spending most of my time stuck inside it, making connections with people
who have no value in the long run. Nobody passed out in that front room right
now is someone I need. They’re just in my way. All I’ve done here is dig myself
into a rut trying to follow a sense of normalcy. I have failed myself in every
way. Maybe my resolution for the New Year should be to just give up and accept
this as my lot in life. Going back would lead only to ridicule at this point, I
can’t let the others see me in this state. They probably already know too. It’s
probably for the best that I stay here, going to work at the corner shop and
coming home to hide. But what would even be the point of that? I’d just be
trapped here forever and that would be the worst fate.
No. I can’t be giving up now, it’s been two years and I’ve gotten
nowhere. It’s time to change that. I need to fix myself, a new year is a time
for change isn’t it? I don’t have to be this person any more, I can do better,
right? Go back to being fit and healthy, start setting achievable goals again.
Get back on the horse, do what I came here for and prove that I’m not as lesser
as everyone at home seems to think I am.
Ditch the miserable gaggle of stoner losers in the front room and
make some proper connections, with powerful people even. A new look would be a
good place to start for sure, starting again in a new place might also work too.
They’d all be laughing if they could see me now, looking across at
my fragile frame and laughing at how I’m a pathetic creature on the outside
too. Fuck it. Fuck them. That’s my plan for the New Year, I’m going to turn this
around and show them how capable I actually am. When I return, I’ll be the one
laughing at how pathetic they all are! Sure I’ll pay back that debt, with
interest! I’ll bring back more followers than they could ever want for. Heck, I
could even throw a world leader or two in that cult if I try! Nobody will ever
doubt me again!
With shaking hands I push myself up off the rail and try to stand
again. On my first step I almost collapse but manage to stay upright. It’s only
one failing step, by this time next year I’ll be more powerful than I’ve ever
been. But before I can get there I’ll need to do something about this body.
Ignoring the mess I grip the sides of the sink and take a good
hard look at that hollow face staring back. It’s been a long time since I’ve
had to do this, so I hope I can still remember what to do. Biting my bottom lip
hard I brace myself for the sting and let my talons break out from beneath
these fingernails. That’s always the worst part! Blood mixes with the bile and
I gag at the smell. Sucking my sore fingers I wait for the pain to calm down
before continuing. Bracing myself again I slam my face into the mirror. The
glass breaks but I don’t break any skin. My head hurts now, but I need to do
this properly. Smashing my head a second time I break the flesh enough and begin
to pull myself from under the surface. My vision fades and I can feel my real
body being pushed out and rejected from the cells. The deadweight begins to
subside and I can scrape together my form again. The fresh, cold feel of the
mirror welcomes me and I drop back into it. Patrick Neer falls down face-first
into the basin and I take my first breath of truly fresh air in a long time.
Ha! It feels so good to be myself again, and not trapped in that
decaying shell. It’s almost like déjà vu to be looking at him through a glass
screen. It’s been a shitty two years knowing you Patty, but damn I’ll remember
them for eternity. Happy New Year old boy! Giving one last wave to my
vomit-soaked former self I turn away from the mirror and walk into the black
fog ahead. It’s a New Year, so it’s finally time to find a new me.
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