He walked into the sea. He was afraid of his tears all the while wondering why he was crying.
3 years since his mother left him. 3 years since misery bonded father and son. Patience dribbled to thinness when the father got a mistress.
He wondered why he couldn’t breathe at exactly 3 am. The father spiked his dinner, but it was the hand of the mistress that guided this nefarious intention. The thirst was a river of fire. So, he got up.
It was only when he saw his hand slip through the glass of water on the night table did he look back at himself lying in bed and realize that he had no plan of waking up.