The live band (Short Story)

Dim lights blasted on his face, almost trapping him in the darkness, but he knew that darkness would mean he would need to sleep.

The music blasted in his ears as if the whole band was playing live. He sang along with his eyes closed, the singer performing right in front of him. His hands raised from his side he started playing alongside the guitarist.

Yet, he had to open his eyes.

The time, the state his body was in, and the thoughts in his mind had all culminated. He wasn’t ok.

He stopped singing as his heart beat heavily. Another swig of his drink went down his throat.

He tried to continue singing but instead leant back in his chair. He struggled to sing as he held back the tears in his heart.

This could be the end of everything.

Knowing tomorrow would come was scary.

He shook his head rapidly before it went away. He was getting tired, but that was ok; his mind didn’t agree.

He wanted to message or tell someone but knew they didn’t care.

If he leant back further in his chair, it would snap.

He wasn’t ok.

He kept skipping songs until he found the one that made him feel even an ink spot of wonder.

Just a tiny little bit to make him feel as though his life was worth living.

There was no chance.

Whatever song he was after, wasn’t coming soon.

Another swig of his drink as the songs ticked, his brain sustained.

Friends he could message wandered his mind, but he knew their reaction. Either they wouldn’t care, or it would be too late.

No matter what happened, they wouldn’t know until it was too late.

An empty glass.

Should he get another?

Or should he stop?

It’s a Sunday.

It didn’t matter.

The answer was always the same.

The following day, a smile he wares.

He smiles at his friends and family, even in the picture on his grave.