Chronicles
Tyler gripped the sides of the sink, avoiding his own hollow eyes in the mirror. He splashed cold water on his face, taking deep breaths as the memories threatened to overtake him. Not today. He wasn't that person anymore.
It had been a year since he left his small, suffocating hometown—a year since he abandoned the people he once called friends who did nothing but drag him down into their darkness. They had all been caught in a riptide of addiction, pulled into the depths by opioids that promised an escape. Tyler had managed to swim against that current, breaking free before it consumed him completely.
But now in his dorm bathroom, miles away at college, he could feel the pull like it was yesterday. The cravings were always worse when he was alone. His mind betrayed him, twisting the past into something alluring, adding a soft filter to the nights of breaking into pharmacies and crashing cars stolen for drug money.
"I don't need it," Tyler whispered, clenching his fist so hard that his nails dug into his palms. The pain centered him, if only for a moment. He thought of his little sister, still back home, looking up to him now. He owed it to her to stay strong.
Tyler took one more breath and left the bathroom, his head high. He had class soon, then a shift at work. A normal life—that's what he fought for each day. The demons were never far, but without darkness, there could be no light. And the light was worth believing in.
Digital Art | 2160 × 3840 px | png | by Manu Williams
Created with Midjourney + Digital Painting in Photoshop
