Status: BALLIN & SHOT CALLIN.
Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Prologue.
“You’re leaving today.” The doctor’s cool voice stated. “How do you feel about that?” Niall thought those same words simultaneously. Doc Rogers wasn’t hard to predict.
“Indifferent, I guess.” Niall picked at a bit of fuzz off his red sweatshirt.
“You’re been in here for six months. Do you feel you’re ready to leave?” Doc Rogers questioned, tapping his ink pen against Niall’s open file. “You can always stay if you’re not ready. But, you should at least try.”
“I’m ready.” Niall decided, glancing out the window into the dull, colorless sky. It imitated Niall perfectly. “It’s not like I’ll be alone. Management is sending me someone for the next six weeks to keep me company, to make sure I don’t fall off the deep end again, yeah?”
“Yes, Miss. Gallagher will be waiting at the train station. She’s already settled into your flat.” Doc Rogers informed the now-dark haired man. Niall nodded, making to stand up. His time here was over. It was time to try to survive in the real world.
“It was nice to make your acquaintance, Niall.” He held out his dark skinned hand, “Don’t hesitate to call if you feel yourself wavering in slightest. We’re here to help you get better, to recover in the smoothest way possible.”
Niall took the man’s hand, “Thanks, doc. Will do.” He lied easily.
Fifteen minutes later, Niall was standing at the train station with his single case of personal items. He checked his old watch, pulling his grey flat cap. His train back to London was almost there. He heard the chugging, the breaks squeaking against the tracks.
“One-fifteen to London.” A cool automated voice alerted the platform.
The grimy metal bullet halted in the station. The doors parted for Niall to slip into, but he stayed firmly planted where he was. His mind told him he had to get on, but his body wouldn’t budge. Niall watched as the doors shut and the train took off without him.
He honestly had no idea why he didn’t get on. Miss Gallagher was going to be frantic, waiting at the other end of that train for him. But Niall kept still, watching his breath puff out in the cold English air.
He didn’t want to be in a confined space. Niall had just spent six months locked in a rehabilitation center. The last thing he wanted was to be shipped off to his flat in London and babysat by some ‘companion’ for six more weeks. No, Niall wanted to smell the fresh air, stretch his legs, and get completely smashed.
But, Niall couldn’t do the latter anymore. That was the reason he’d lost the last six months of his life.
Niall readjusted his bag as that same cool voice echoed, “One-thirty to Dublin.”
And as that train pulled up to Niall’s feet, he swiftly brushed through its welcoming doors. Niall wanted to go home.
“Indifferent, I guess.” Niall picked at a bit of fuzz off his red sweatshirt.
“You’re been in here for six months. Do you feel you’re ready to leave?” Doc Rogers questioned, tapping his ink pen against Niall’s open file. “You can always stay if you’re not ready. But, you should at least try.”
“I’m ready.” Niall decided, glancing out the window into the dull, colorless sky. It imitated Niall perfectly. “It’s not like I’ll be alone. Management is sending me someone for the next six weeks to keep me company, to make sure I don’t fall off the deep end again, yeah?”
“Yes, Miss. Gallagher will be waiting at the train station. She’s already settled into your flat.” Doc Rogers informed the now-dark haired man. Niall nodded, making to stand up. His time here was over. It was time to try to survive in the real world.
“It was nice to make your acquaintance, Niall.” He held out his dark skinned hand, “Don’t hesitate to call if you feel yourself wavering in slightest. We’re here to help you get better, to recover in the smoothest way possible.”
Niall took the man’s hand, “Thanks, doc. Will do.” He lied easily.
Fifteen minutes later, Niall was standing at the train station with his single case of personal items. He checked his old watch, pulling his grey flat cap. His train back to London was almost there. He heard the chugging, the breaks squeaking against the tracks.
“One-fifteen to London.” A cool automated voice alerted the platform.
The grimy metal bullet halted in the station. The doors parted for Niall to slip into, but he stayed firmly planted where he was. His mind told him he had to get on, but his body wouldn’t budge. Niall watched as the doors shut and the train took off without him.
He honestly had no idea why he didn’t get on. Miss Gallagher was going to be frantic, waiting at the other end of that train for him. But Niall kept still, watching his breath puff out in the cold English air.
He didn’t want to be in a confined space. Niall had just spent six months locked in a rehabilitation center. The last thing he wanted was to be shipped off to his flat in London and babysat by some ‘companion’ for six more weeks. No, Niall wanted to smell the fresh air, stretch his legs, and get completely smashed.
But, Niall couldn’t do the latter anymore. That was the reason he’d lost the last six months of his life.
Niall readjusted his bag as that same cool voice echoed, “One-thirty to Dublin.”
And as that train pulled up to Niall’s feet, he swiftly brushed through its welcoming doors. Niall wanted to go home.
♠ ♠ ♠
So sorry!I meant to post this ages ago. I've been lagging on the writing these past two weeks. Christmas break is coming up so I'll get this story up an running soon. Sorry this is short and suckish. I just needed to get the creative juices flowing. I'm still excited about this and I hope you are too! (:
Next update, Clouds of Sulfur! I promise!