He didn’t know how long he had been staring at the clock, waiting for some sort of relief from his thoughts. It seemed like forever, though, and it seemed as if those thoughts were endless. Relentless. Unforgiving. Torturing him about his past; about his crimes, about his sins, about mistakes that he had made and that now he was paying for dearly. If there were something such as a time machine, he would take the chance to go back in time and change what he had done. He had learnt his lessons that each mistake had taught him, but he didn’t want that ‘knowledge.’ It hurt too much to live with the same thing every day and know that, no matter how hard he tried, nothing would change.

Nothing will ever change.

Ungluing his eyes from the clock he let out a small sigh that seemed to resound in the silent room and closed his eyes; giving up any hope of sleep. It was worthless; nothing was going to bring sleep tonight. Again. How long had it been since he had slept? Too long, that was for sure. Every morning he would wake up and avoid the mirror, knowing that the reflection would only show what he was now.

Old.

Tired.

Ashamed.

Defeated.

Just thinking about it was enough; he didn’t want to see what he had become. It scared him, knowing that that was who he was now and that nothing was going to change that. Nothing. There were too many scars along his body, there were too many wounds still open and bleeding; any hope of being the person he had been one day was long gone.

Opening his eyes once more he stared up at the ceiling through the darkness, already knowing the number of stars his niece had painted on it. He had spent many other sleepless nights counting those stars, counting to forget. Counting to have at least one minute of mental peace with himself. Once those stars were counted, though, and there was nothing else to do but start over, thoughts started to leak in once more. One by one they would poison his mind, bringing back the pain that he had managed to forget for a short moment.

It hadn’t always been that way. There had been a time when he had been happy; when things weren’t how they were now. A time when he thought he was invincible; when he thought that no one could break the bubble in which he lived in and protected him from any gloom. The bubble had burst, though, and here he was. Laying on a bed, in his sister’s house and sleeping in his niece’s room because she was away at college. And he was trying to glue his life back together, even if he didn’t know where to even start. He didn’t even know what pieces there were left to glue back. Were there any left? Was there actually something that could be saved and that could save him from the hell in which he was living?

Only time would be able to tell.