As he lit his cigarette, Clay considered his options. There were endless opportunities for death, each one more complicated than the last. Truly, he just wanted to end it now, quick and easy.
He flung his lighter across the room; it bounced against the opposing wall and fell to the ground with a clink. Sighing deeply, he brushed his blonde hair out of his eyes and stood up. His neck felt sore as he stretched, the constant reminder of his failure at strangling himself with the telephone wire. Grabbing an old flannel, he left his apartment, closing the door with a final click. He had left no note, no indication of where he was going and what he would do.
Even he had no idea of his roaming tonight.
He tromped down the stairwell, his shoes making no noise against the rubber covering on the steps. Out the back door, and he removed the rolled paper from his lips, exhaling the smoke into a puff that disintegrated into the night sky. He shook his head slightly, before setting the cigarette back in between his lips and walking down the alleyway.
Leaning against a lamp post in front of an empty road, Clay closed his eyes.
That's when the memories came back.
Everything he always wanted to forget.
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Fanfiction"It was as though she'd lost her head. Forgetting any rational idea she'd had about hiding the body or disposing of the bloody rags or calling the police, she flung herself out the back door of the shop, stumbling into the dark alley. Without even b...
