Ten thousand steps, one thousand left 10

Kyrie opened his eyes to stare at the familiar darkness, the darkness of his room. A tingling pain in his chest, the dried patches of skin around his eyes from where tears fell without halt before he lost consciousness.

Such a position reminded him of his more pathetic days when he was lost and far too weak in mind and body to bring change for himself and his life. The impotency of his younger days, and powerlessness of his previous self.

Could he even be called the same person he was before? The same guy? Human? He did not now. Kyrie grimaced, his lips cracking, a sharp stinging spreading in the soft flesh.

His lips were dry. He lay on his bed, the same blight brought by recognition and realization that fate was treading on a path contrary to what he wanted. Why does life have to be that way? Why could it not go as planned for once?