Two years later...
It was still fucking daytime, but with all the cur-tains closed and windows covered, the room looked dark. Not that I gave a damn what time it was outside, because I didn't plan on leaving my home.
There was a part of me that was angry for locking myself in, and feeling sorry for myself. I still wouldn't leave the house, though.
I didn't have the courage to leave, after all. Not anymore.
"Fuck, this is boring," I grumbled, drinking the last of my beer, then crushed the can and tossed it in my trashcan. The can went in, and I smirked, but it quickly dropped with a sigh as my eyes turned back to the TV. "If they're gonna show this kind of play to people, they at least need better players."
Like me, I thought, then cast that thought away, too. It was a dangerous thought to have for me recently, but sometimes, I couldn't keep myself from wishing.