Islero

The drive was long; the road was barren, only he was the one out there. There was an eerie feeling of loneliness and uncertainty. Had he gone somewhere completely different? Had he broke through his realm of reality to a new place where only he occupied its existence? Would he even care if he had become the last remaining soul? No.

His headlights mapped a path for him. The shadows it created became illuminated figures from his past. Each new turn, each new breath brought with it a painful realization. He had gambled too much away, he had invested more than he could afford, and now, he lost felt that he’d lost anything that may have been able to be regained. It was an understatement to say his world was falling apart.
He had become his own worst enemy, poisoning every aspect of his life. His pessimism, his negativity, had become a plague on himself and those around; this was mainly the reason why he no longer had anyone left at all. It was a hell that he had created for himself, and though he knew this, he still didn’t stop; in all honesty he hadn’t wanted too. It was easier to feel angry, than it was to feel that sorrow and anguish. Even if that anger was directed at him; besides whom else did he have to be angry with? He had been in control the entire time, it doesn’t matter that he had opted to relinquish it over to her, she didn’t ask him to do that, he just did it, knowing full well the possible outcome. His ignorance and faith in humanity had driven him to become inhuman, and in turn something he couldn’t stand the sight of. He was determined that he would find that one connection to sanity, even if it would push him over that final edge.