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I walk down the street, barely paying attention to what is going on around me as worry plagues my mind. Two months. It's been two months since I lost my job and I'm rapidly running out of money. At the moment I am almost completely broke. My newfound habit of drinking isn't helping matters either, but I can't seem to stop. When I drink, I am able to briefly forget the mess that I call life. Though lately, its effect seems to be reducing.

A bunch of teens passes by me laughing, probably discussing something inane. I can still remember when I was a teenager, I was happy. My future seemed bright, or at least bright enough for me. Then the world suddenly decided to screw with me. I doubt I will ever forget that day. My mom suddenly arrived at school and took me home. She was silent all the way, tears streaming down her eyes. I tried asking what was wrong, but she wouldn't answer. At some point I just stopped asking, settling for just staring at the road in front of us, feeling an ever-increasing sense of dread with each passing second. By the time we got home and she told me the news, some part of me had already guessed it. My dad was dead. He died in a car crash on his way to work.

In another family, it might have been bad, but not too much. For my family it was devastating: my mom was a full-time housewife, and without my dad to earn money, we were done for. My sister, who had been battling depression before that, just gave up on life and committed suicide. As for my mother, she didn't even have enough time to mourn the death of her husband and daughter, she had a son to take care of after all. She began to take on various odd jobs, trying her best to clothe, feed and put a roof over my head while at the same time making sure I could still go to school.

During that period, whenever I saw her passed out on the couch from exhaustion, I promised myself that I would make things better for her. I would get rich in the future and make sure she never suffered again for the rest of her life. A lot of good that promise did me, considering she died three years later from overwork. At least I managed to finish college before her death.

I stop, staring at the bar in front of me, deliberating whether to go in or not. In the end, I decided to go in. Who knows? Maybe one day I'll be lucky enough to drink myself to death. In the bar, I get myself a mug of beer and sit by myself in a corner. I look out the window and see a homeless man shuffle past. Some part of me wonders if I should go over and introduce myself to him. The way things are going, I might be like him before the month is over. At least if I knew him beforehand, I could maybe get some life-saving tips.

At the time I first lost my job, my landlord had been a bit sympathetic, but in the end, even he has to make money. Two weeks, I have two weeks to pay up my rent or I'll be joining that man on the streets. I look away from the window, focusing fully on the beer in front of me. When I am on my second drink, a man enters the bar. He's a bit on the tall side, with a well-built body and dark shiny hair. A lot of people are coming and going from the bar, but something about this man catches my attention. He turns and spots me looking at him. He gives me a smile and nods at me. I nod back before turning my attention back to my drink. One doesn't get drunk by just sitting after all.

A few seconds later, someone slides into the seat opposite me. I look up to see the man from before. "Hey," he says, flashing a pair of white teeth at me.

I give him a small nod. "Hey."

He begins to talk. Normally, I'd be annoyed if a random stranger suddenly started talking to me like this, especially when I just want to be alone, but with this man, I can't seem to feel annoyed. I still don't care about what he is saying though, so I settle for just ignoring him. I turn to look outside the window, and for a moment, the whites of his eyes flash green. I turn to look at him but his eyes are normal. I frown. Have I drunk too much? I wonder. But I don't feel drunk. I'm probably just seeing things. It's normal.

Soon the guy begins to complain about his job and how he missed out on some cash because he is too old or something. I snort inwardly, raising the beer to my lips. At least he has a job. He should try living my life, let's see how much complaining he'll do then. From the corner of my eyes, his eyes begin to glow green again. I ignore it, thinking it will go away but it doesn't. Instead, the glow increases. In the end, I decided to look at his eyes again. Perhaps the glow will disappear as it did before.

Surprisingly, as I look at him, the glow is still there. As bright as a lightbulb. Some part of me begins to think I should feel scared, but I feel relaxed, as though this were a normal thing. The world slowly begins to spin and my thoughts get blurry. Have I drunk too much? I wonder as I glance at my mug. It is still full. I frown at it. I am pretty sure I drank out of it. Haven't I?

"Thanks for listening to my pointless ramble," the man says suddenly as he stands up. "I'll pay for your drinks."

He gives me a friendly slap on my shoulder. That is when I feel it.