Engraving

Unfortunate Events || Prologue

She broke up with me, and she didn't even explain why. Now, being left in my own sorrowful thoughts, (with alcohol gripped tightly in my right hand) I lay in bed, awaiting the hangover of the next morning. Enticing darkness, however, did not come to me.  Staring up at the bland white of my ceiling, I groaned.

"Dammit."

After long, monotonous moments of drowning in my ever-growing sorrow, darkness finally took over me. 

I awoke slowly, desperately needing something to quench my nearly unbearable thirst. As I pushed up from my bed, my vision began to blur as I viewed the world around me spinning slowly. I wanted to pass out; to give in to the fatigue and dizziness. This scenario was quite familiar, as I've been acquainted with the violent beating of my racing heart; the darkness attempting to take over once again; the malaise. It was oppressive, but addictive. 

A horrid idea and three glasses of ice water later, I was venturing down the street towards the Liquor Store. 

My situation was already worth frowning upon – to most people, anyway – but I was about to be dragged into a bottomless pit of never-ending pity. 

Being as intoxicated as I was, it was exceedingly difficult to walk straight; and even more so to walk in the right direction.

I did not – could not think of this logic beforehand, which led me to my current situation. I was staring at a tall man with bloodstained hands, gripping onto the face of a body that had once belonged to a beautiful woman. He was carving out some sort of intricate design in her pale skin, lips quirking upward, as he seemed to be successful in his careful outlining. I was curious – too curious – of the justification for his behavior. Was he a psychopath? 

Then, he turned to me, eyes lighting up like a fire inside the shadows of the alley way. His gaze lingered for a moment, before, with one viscous movement, I lost consciousness.