Tony was walking down the stairs one day when his abusive boyfriend came up behind him and shoved him.
I pray for the wicked on the weekend
It was endless falling. Tony thought he would never feel safe again. He fell through his front door and staggered to his feet. Disoriented, he stepped into heavy traffic, the sun beating down harshly on him.
Mama can I get another amen?
Suddenly, a bright blue car zoomed down the street and crashed into Tony. He screamed as he went flying through the air, soaring for what seemed like years until he landed at the very edge of a ravine.
Ohhhhhhhhhh oh it's Saturday night, yeah
Tony slowly stood up, dazed. Not looking where he was going, he stepped forward-and fell off the cliff, down into the ravine. The wind soared past him like razor blades, cutting at his smooth skin. Tears streamed from his eyes. Was this it? Was this the end? He never got to say goodbye to his loved ones, especially not his son, Peter.
SPLASH!
Tony plummeted into the river. The cold water filled his eyes, his ears, his nose, his mouth. It stung his skin and soaked him to the bones like the liquor he downed on lonely nights. Suddenly, screams pierced the air. Were they his own? No, no, they sounded different. Yet somehow, they sounded familiar. Tony burst from the river's surface….and saw a cloud of blood in the water. There was a dark shape floating. Panic surging through him, he grabbed the body and pulled it to the surface.
"NO!"
It was his son, Peter. He had crushed him in his fall. This was all his fault. Sobbing violently, Tony held Peter's corpse to himself. His son was gone. He had nothing left to live for. He would have held Peter forever but a sudden large current of water knocked him to his feet and pulled him away. He thrashed and flailed as his sped down the river, screaming and crying as the sight of his son's bloody body faded into the distance. Tony closed his eyes and everything faded to black.