A/N: This is the first time I have ever written from a first person view point, so this is a kind of experiment.

Disclaimer: I do not in any way shape or form own Gravitation or it characters.

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I wave goodnight to my co-works as I head to my car in the chill November night. Well it would be more appropriate to say morning since it is almost four. It doesn't bother me that I am one of the few people around at this time of the morning, it means there is no one around to notice me. I prefer that.

I run the last few steps to my car and quickly wipe of the back window before unlocking the door and sliding inside. I turn the key in the ignition and hit my windshield wipers so that I will be able to see the road. I then crack both the passenger and driver side windows, so that my breath won't fog the windows up so bad. My car is an older model compact, it doesn't look great, the defroster doesn't work, but it gets me where I need to go.

There was a time when I would have dreamed of sports cars and limos, but those days are long gone. I don't feel sorry for myself anymore. I have come to the realization that it was all my own fault. I only wish I could have seen the consequences then, before it was too late.

I turn on the radio as I head for my house, frowning a little at the song that is on. It still hurts to hear the music sometimes. More so when I am tired, which right now I am. I have to smile though, glad that my two friends have continued their musical careers. They were both far better than me anyways, they deserve the fame they have gained and I truly am happy for them. Though sometimes I do still long to be a part of that dream, but I ruined that, a dream that is nothing more than a faded memory.

I pull my car into the spot marked with faded paint that indicates I am allowed to park there and dash quickly to my door trying to avoid the rain that has begun to fall. The door opens with an irritating whine and I step in closing it and locking it. With a quick flick I hit the light switch illuminating the dingy grey of my apartment. I think it's actually called a studio, but I really don't care. It's affordable and allows me to still eat and occasionally by something new to wear.

I flip on the TV, tuned to the channel I left it. I chuckle to myself as I realize what video is playing. It's the song that ended it all for me. Don't get me wrong though, it's not the song fault, or the videos. It was my over zealous ambition.

I scurry around my apartment picking up a few things that I left out, while the song continues to play. I even find myself sing along with it to my surprise. But then I should be surprised, rarely do I sing any more, though I used to all the time. There was a point in my life when singing consumed me. I should have stayed in the safe haven of my singing, but I was stupid and let my emotions consume me. I shake my head as I call my self a string of vulgarities before heading to the shower.

I wash myself quickly knowing that there is not a lot of hot water. I soap myself down ignoring the scars on my body then quickly work the shampoo through my hair before rinsing it all off. I roughly towel myself off before quickly sliding into my pajamas. I use to tell myself the reason I got dressed so quick was because of the cold, but I know it's a lie. I hate the scars on my body. They remind me of what I have done and what has been done too me.

I pass the TV and turn it off before switching the lights off, leaving myself in darkness. I hate the dark. Who would have guessed a grown man would say that, but I really hate the dark. It brings back to many memories. Memories I wish I could forget.

I pull the blankets over my shoulders and close my eyes willing sleep to take me. I am about to drift to sleep when the squeal of tire outside wake me, but worse yet they wake my memories.

The sequel of tires, a shot of pain as I hit the hood of the car, my back slamming against the windshield knocking all the air out of me as I am thrown over the top of the car, the world spinning violently before I am thrown to the ground registering nothing but agony. The bleeping of machines, the smell of the hospital room, my band mates telling me they are leaving, my parents telling me they knew what happen and abandoning me. Then I was left alone, my thoughts my only company. I wanted then to blame others for what had happened, I tried over and over to push them fault away from me. But in the cold stench of the hospital with no one else there I came to realize I was the only one to blame and now I would have to live with the shame of what I had done.

I bite my lip and try to force my self past the memories, so I can get some sleep. I pull the blankets over my head as if that will keep away the monsters in my memory, praying as I drift off again I won't dream, knowing that I will and hope that no one will hear me scream.

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Thank you for reading, comments and reviews are greatly welcomed. At the moment I am undecided if this will be a one shot or if I will let my mind continue with it.