5

He exhaled softly, letting the smoke slip past his lips and cloud his vision for a second. The feeling of it spreading through him gave him chills yet made him feel less empty. He licked his chapped lips slowly, savoring the taste before putting out the cigarette and throwing it away. Bad habits. Too hard to stop, too valuable to give up. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked along the street, the world dead silent with everyone asleep. At least the moon was there. Keeping him company. Maybe he wasn't so alone. He came across a park and decided to slip in. The swings reminded him of a time when he was younger. When the world was so much less cruel. The slight squeak of the swings was still present, and leaves of different colors littered the familiar ground. He pushed himself on the swings, going higher and higher until he felt like if he jumped, he would fly. It felt amazing, being above the ground. Time seemed to slow down then, and he thought to himself; "Life isn't all that bad." And then it sped up again. The swing swung by the ground, and once his feet touched the gravel to push himself up, memories flooded back. Bad, horrifying, terrible memories. Memories he would rather forget. He stopped the swing, feeling panic creeping up on him. Before he knew what he was doing, he lit another cigarette and pushed it between his lips, inhaling deeply. The familiar feeling of it spreading through him consoled him, like an old friend. He knew that it would kill him someday, all the smoking, and he looked forward to it. He wouldn't- nay, couldn't kill himself in one go. So he decided to prolong it, yet shorten his lifespan. Death crept closer every time he slipped a cigarette between his lips, and he waited for it to be time. He exhaled the smoke, and glanced at his watch.

2:04 am.

He was going to be late for school tomorrow. Amazing. Not that Grade 12 was the hardest thing ever, but it stressed him out. Everything stressed him out. A minute later, he put out the cigarette and walked away from the park, never glancing back.

His room was as clean as ever.

Everything was tidy, it smelt fresh, and there wasn't a speck of dirt on the floor. A thought popped into his mind, and before rational thinking could cloud it, he ran outside, grabbed a ladder, and climbed up to the roof of his house, relaxing only when he laid down.

The stars were out.

They blinked down at him, probably asking why he was awake so late. Not like it was that late anyways. His reply was nothing but silence as he stared up at them, and his eyes went out of focus. More thoughts rushed into his mind, and he welcomed them. The good, the bad, and the ugly. He teared up, he smiled, he broke down, he laughed, he went through a roller coaster of emotions, and he welcomed it all. And as the sun rose, and he felt exhausted both physically and mentally, he couldn't help but feel more free than he had in a long time.

Finally.