During the warmer seasons the trees garb themselves in majestic fashions that make them appear like beautiful models, but during the winter when they lose their clothing of leaves you can see how anorexic they are.
Just like Arthur.
It was winter.
Snow was falling to the ground.
A man was falling apart.
Quick gusts of wind assaulted Arthur, chilling him through his many layers of clothing. He stopped walking to pull up his collar to cover his wind bitten face. The wind continued to blow, making his muscles shiver and his teeth clatter. He pulled up his collar further and wrapped his scarf around his neck and the bottom half of his face. He slung his gloved fingers back into his pocket and resumed walking.
"God damn this cold", He thought, kicking almost violently at the couple of inches of fresh snow that he was walking through. "Just a little farther and I'll be home".
He walked. Every step he took brought a soft crunch from fresh snow and long dead grass. But the grass always comes back. Like the trees. During the winter they lose their beauty, seeming to be dead, but as soon as spring comes they return. Arthur was not going to be like the trees and grass. He was not going to return to life next spring.
Arthur reached his apartment building a few minutes later. He walked up the snow covered steps with relief, eager for the warmth of his apartment and a hot bath.
He walked through the empty corridor of the apartment hallway, his footsteps echoing through the empty silence. Arthur started up the stairs up to the second floor, where his apartment was at. He walked past the other rooms, filled with so many different people. So many different stories.
When he was finally inside his apartment he collapsed on his couch, not even bothering to take off the many layers of clothing he was wearing. He continued to tremble, even though the apartment was much warmer than outside.
When he was finally able to drag himself off the couch he trudged to the bathroom, ready for a hot bath to cease his shivering.
He ran the water. The spray from the facet wetting his arms with ice cold water.
He rummaged through his medicine cabinet as he waited for the water to heat up. He pulled out two orange translucent containers, both filled halfway with little white pills. Oxycodone.
He placed one pill on his tongue and swallowed it quickly, feeling it side down his throat. He shivered, and put the bottles on the edge of the bathtub.
He went to feel the water, and deemed it hot enough. He put in the stopper, watching with interest how the water began to rise, stretching thin across the white floor of the tub.
He stripped off his clothes, layer by layer. He examined himself in the mirror. His blonde hair covered his eyes, which were once bright green but now held a dull and defeated look. His limbs were skinny and gawky, and his collar bones and pelvic bone stuck out sharply against his pale skin.
"I look terrible"
He ran a finger down his side, tracing each individual rib that protruded from his body. Arthur shivered again, but he couldn't tear his eyes from the man in front of him. His fingers brushed over his nipples and down his stomach. He lightly traced his finger down the length of his cock. He shivered.
Arthur looked away and walked toward the nearly full tub. He stepped into the scolding water, flinching a bit. He settled into the tub, the water quickly jumping up a few inches.
He just laid there for a few minutes before reaching over and grabbing one of the orange bottles and pouring all of its contents into his hand. The blonde stared at the twenty or so little white pills.
"Life goes on", he whispered. "Even if mine doesn't".
He pushed the pills into his mouth and threw his head back, swallowing painfully.
He shivered once more and waited.
Okay first chapter which is the... last chapter? I don't know this story confuses me.
I know, sad and short. Sorry.
Review? I dun know brah. Your life, your choice. (But I would enjoy reading it very much)