The Being of Fear

He sat at the edge of the bed, placing his dark blue socks on. His jet black hair falling over his sleepless eyes and frowning brows. The bare chest of his body exposed to the naked light of the night light. She twisted in her sleep, maybe trying to ignore the nightmares she knew as life. He was careful not to make a sound when he placed on his shoes and carried his small bag out the door.

He turned his car on and the stereo volume up. Taking a big gasp of air, he wiped away the tear that had been born in the corner of his left eye. This was his life, he lived alone for a long period of time, and when he found someone, he had to leave them. Because behind his jet black hair, ocean deep eyes, and sharp, thin nose, was hiding the damnation of a man with a curse. No matter what he did, he always hurt the ones he loved. And so he tried to distance himself away from people, but he always fell in again, for the same person.

Anna Love. She was the thing that he had always wanted, not mattering the price he had to pay to have her. In the end he always drove away, and she would always take him back, because there was no one out there for her better than him. Even if he could barely speak to her without making her cry. Sometimes he would try to hurt himself for what he'd done, but he never could. They would always fight, jokingly of course. But sometimes, he turned those fights into something that he couldn't take back. She said things too, about his past, and the way that he was. But those things, they could be taken back.

He had come from an apparently normal woman, then she left him, leaving him to be raised by a drug user who injected him too. She taught him to steal and sell drugs, as well as other things. He grew to be a monster who hurt everyone he touched, even with the slightest touch of his breath.

He hit the pedal, in hopes that he would be out of the town, the state, the continent, the world.

"He used to live in so much fear of himself that instead of not hurting people, he did hurt them. If only he would have lived as any man lives, forgetting the past, living in the present, and hoping for the future, the only worry he could have had would've been how empty his gel can could be."