He steps outside and takes in the fresh air. A beautiful night, a not-so beautiful life. Still hungover from yesterday’s binge, he staggers to his truck, gets in, and takes off. He’s not sure where he’s going, but he’s going somewhere. A lot of people say that and it sounds rather typical, but for him, it’s the story of his life. He’s always going somewhere rather aimlessly, making some right and some wrong turns along the way, but always evening things out and fixing the situation to the best of his ability. He’s a helpful man, caring in every way possible. He’d give his right arm if it meant you’d get so much as a fingernail out of it. He’d do anything for anybody, but he lives with bad habbits.
He’s a sad man, a lonely man. After an ugly divorce, he lost his children to his ex. He hardly sees them now. He has two beautiful sons, one named after him and growing quickly, the other only a few months old. His life never fell into place the way he’d hoped for it to. Life grew on him, but he never grew fast enough for it. Things passed him by before he got a grasp of what was really happening. He grew up poorly, his parents fought a lot and few knew all of his story. I was one of those lucky people, though. I was lucky enough to have him open up to me, and I was lucky enough to have him to open up to. He saved me from several ugly situations. I could never thank him enough for everything he’d done for me.
It’s early morning, around 1:30. He’s tired from a week with his son, he’s tired from work. He recently started a new job, he’d be moving back to his hometown in no time. He’d taken a lot of big steps in his life in just the last year, and this would be yet another one.
It’s dark, it’s quiet, he’s driving alone. He’s tired, exhausted, really. He starts to doze off. The vehicle veers, he regains control. He begins to doze off again, this time falling into a deeper sleep. The vehicle veers, this time further off the road. Before he knows it, he’s no longer on the road. He’s sleeping. The car’s on fire. He’s trapped inside. Does he know what’s happening? Is he awake? Is he struggling to get out or is he sleeping peacefully as he burns to death? Will we ever know? In a matter of minutes, seconds, maybe, he’s gone.
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