Matthew Stevens opened his eyes, closing them again immediately his head was pounding. Where am I? He thought. He sat up and opened his eyes again ignoring the pain that was shooting through his head. It felt like someone was driving railroad spikes through his brain with a sledgehammer. His mouth was dry and he had a horrible taste in it which he was very familiar with after all he was an alcoholic. He swung his feet out of bed and glanced at his digital alarm clock it was 3:41 pm. Beside it was an empty bottle of 151 rum and a half-empty pack of Newport Red 100s, no wonder my head hurts Mathew thought. His room was small and to him pretty cozy. He had a single bed a nightstand and his dresser. Beside his bed was a stand-in closet with no door. He had a drunken episode one night and got pissed off at his girlfriend Suzanne, which leads to him ripping it off the hinges. It was a sunny summer afternoon and the sunlight doused his room with rays of light shining through the cracks in his blinds, which were white and now were stained a nasty yellow from his nicotine habit. He went to place his head in the palm of his hands and froze in complete horror. His hands were covered in blood. He leaped off the bed and ran across the hall to the bathroom. His head was filling up with horrible images of him getting wasted and blacking out, which he did often. He hit the light switch blindly and gazed into the mirror. Oh god!, What have I done? He thought. His heart was pounding fast, he was sweating profusely. His face was streaked with blood, his white T-shirt was also covered in blood, and it was also in his jeans. He couldn't help but think that he looked a lot like Jane Levy from that movie Evil Dead where it's pouring down blood and she's drenched from head to toe in it, of course, he had nowhere near as much blood, but it was pretty bad. He slapped himself hard on the right side of his face. This has to be some kind of fucking nightmare he thought. He tried to remember what happened the other night and the harder he tried the more his skull felt like it was going to split open and he would watch in the mirror as his brains oozed onto the floor. He opened the medicine cabinet behind the mirror and grabbed the bottle of aspirin. He took eight of them. He turned on the water in the stand-up shower to the left of the mirror. He stripped down and got in.
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