My eyes ran back and forth as I looked at the ticking clock on my wall. Well since you already know about most of my life, I guess telling you that I suffer from acute insomnia won't hurt anybody. It's been getting better the past few weeks and a glass of milk usually got me to sleep.

My house isn't all that, in fact this place was a murder scene, and I ended up getting it for a small price. I have one small kitchen, an even smaller bathroom, my bedroom and living rooms are one.

I have a mattress lying in the corner of the room near my window and plates of eaten food lying around. Nobody even comes by so it wasn't a big deal, the only place I bothered cleaning in my house was my bathroom.

Sometimes I don't know why I live; I'm not doing anything beneficial for this world. Or myself. I feel like a failure, and I have no reason to live. The have the same boring routine everyday.

I wake up at around 11AM, drink some coffee and look for any jobs in the newspaper. Then I wait until 1 to eat lunch, and hey I just thought of something I'm good at. I can cook, really well actually; when I was in high school my brother and I were in cooking club. It was then that I discovered my love for cooking.

The dish I cooked most used to be fatty tuna, keyword; used to be. "She" loves my cooking, especially the fatty tuna, and each evening after I came from work I would cook it for her. "He" would always be over keeping her company, and I guess it started from there.

I feel stupid for not realizing it earlier, but I didn't think she would choose him over me. They had a lot in common, and I guess looks didn't really matter to her. Don't get me wrong, "he" isn't ugly, but- I don't even know how to put it, just let me drink my milk.

I hope you're happy; just one sip of that milk gave me a sudden burst of unnecessary energy. I guess I'll just save myself the trouble tomorrow and get started on reading the paper. You know I never really liked reading, but this city is pretty interesting.

I downed the last of my milk and opened the paper. It was a sign, headlining the paper was the following; "local man commits suicide." My eyes flashed across the paper, "loses will to live", "depressed", "broke".

If Robyn were here I know exactly what I'd hear from her; an annoying voice and...

"This isn't healthy, this individual decided to take their life instead of getting around his temporary problem."

Temporary my ass, how long until 2 months turn into 2 years, and those two years starts to accumulate. Before I used to hope that'll wake up from this nightmare. Wake up to the smell of coffee, and see a smiling women hovering over me.

I know it won't happen though, I felt my eye lids getting heavy. I put down the haunting newspaper and made my way back to bed.

A/N And there's chapter 2. I hope everyone enjoyed it, and I LOVE writing in first-person, I feel connected to the character…Anyways; review, favorite, alert, and mostly ENJOY.