Chapter One

He stood staring at himself in the mirror of his lonely cold bathroom. His faced had aged twelve years when he finally woke up and found himself staring at his reflection. The years had rolled by like passing one night stands that offered nothing but consolation prizes. It had all culminated to this moment. The weathered eyes. The faint remains of a broken nose suffered a lifetime ago. The stubble on his chin that never seemed to disappear no matter how often he shaved.
His eyes moved past his appearance. Past the physicality of what he saw. The ghosts began to replace what was truly in the looking glass. Ghosts of friends. Apparitions of times long gone. But instead of remembering the truth, he painted the past in shades of exaggeration and high theatre. The truth no longer existed. Just what he believed was the truth. All the deceit and guilt and ego had seen to that. It had murdered all that was innocent and young.
So why this epiphany? He grasped for an answer. Was it a promise that was made years ago? Created from love and alcohol and spontaneity. A promise that seemed to creep up on him at this moment and the realization that the time for flight was near. He had to keep it. For the sake of his livelihood.
He turned away from his reflection toward the privacy window next the shower. The glass glazed to obscure the sight of his life here in this abode from prying eyes. But the window actually had a reverse effect. For it also stopped him from seeing what was out there, beyond the confines of these walls. He thought if he could just get out of this place, everything would be all right. He wanted to right all the wrongs of the past. He wanted to relive the moments of the so called "glory days". He wanted to seek out old friends, lovers and enemies. He wanted to capture new moments with faces in the past and bottle those new found memories up again for another twelve years. Save them. Cherish them. He thought that would make his life whole again. He felt that he would be saved when he could put all the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle of his sad sack life back together again. As if that's how life worked. That if he kept his part of a promise, then his penance would be paid. That happy endings exist. A life is made up in three acts. And in the end there is a conclusion....all nice and tidy.
But how was he to know the truth? That those people that you stabbed don't want to see you again. Those friends you had have new friends and don't even think of you anymore. Old lovers have found warmth in the beds of other mates. This is how life works. It keeps moving even when you stop. Even when you pause to catch your breath, the earth still rotates. It still spins on it's axis and hurdles through space. Promises are broken every day. And the world still goes on.
But he didn't think of that. Instead he reached for the latch to open the privacy window. This was how he would escape. Not through the front door, but climbing out the back like an escaping inmate. Seeking refuge in the pointless past.