Part One

Nazz stared at the name "Elizabeth" on the page, feeling as though it held some profound significance, yet unable to grasp its full weight. He knew he had to continue, to unravel the tangled mess of thoughts and emotions that had ensnared him for so long. But every attempt felt futile, like trying to piece together a shattered mirror.

He closed his eyes, trying to summon memories of Elizabeth, but they danced just out of reach, elusive and intangible.

How had she become such a pivotal figure in his life, and why did her name now seem to mock him from the blankness of the page?

With a heavy sigh, Nazz conceded defeat, his resolve crumbling like the stale bread on the table. Perhaps it was time to confront the truth he had been avoiding, to acknowledge that some wounds could never fully heal, no matter how hard he tried to bury them beneath layers of isolation.

As the weight of his solitude pressed down upon him, Nazz picked up the pen once more, his hand trembling as he wrote the next sentence. It was time to face the demons that lurked within the shadows of his mind, to find a way to move forward even in the absence of salvation. And perhaps, just perhaps, in the act of confronting his own vulnerability, he would find a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.



***
Nazz's childhood was a gilded cage, adorned with all the trappings of wealth but devoid of the warmth and love he so desperately craved. His parents, consumed by their own pursuits, were mere specters in his life, fleeting presences that left him feeling empty and alone. The scars they inflicted upon him, both physical and emotional, ran deep, etched into the fabric of his being like a cruel reminder of his inadequacy in their eyes.

His acts of rebellion, however misguided, were cries for attention, for validation in a world that seemed determined to overlook his existence. But instead of understanding, he was met with punishment and isolation, condemned to endure the torment of bullies without the solace of familial support.

It was only when he found her, the love of his life, that Nazz glimpsed the possibility of happiness. She was his anchor in a sea of uncertainty, the one person who saw beyond the facade he presented to the world and embraced him for who he truly was. Together, they navigated the highs and lows of life, weathering storms of mania and despair with unwavering devotion.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans. The loss of her, torn away from him by the cruel hand of fate, left Nazz adrift once more, lost in a sea of grief and regret. The gaping void she left behind threatened to swallow him whole, leaving him to ponder the cruel irony of a life that had once promised so much, only to deliver heartache and despair in its wake.

Part Two


Nazz's frustration boiled over, his pent-up anger finding release in the form of a primal scream and a violent crash upon the table. Though outwardly composed, inwardly he seethed with turmoil, his mind a tempest of conflicting emotions.

In the dim light of the adjacent room, he exchanged his disheveled attire for something more inconspicuous, the weight of the firearm in his hand a chilling reminder of the path he was about to tread. With practiced precision, he checked the safety, his movements mechanical yet tinged with a sense of grim determination.

***

Meanwhile, in another part of town, the morning held a different energy. For Anthony and his companion, the promise of intimacy hung thick in the air, their bodies drawn together by a magnetic pull of desire and longing.

Their burgeoning relationship had been a delicate dance of restraint and temptation, each encounter leaving them craving more yet held back by the fear of crossing an invisible boundary. But today, fueled by a newfound resolve, they surrendered to the passion that simmered beneath the surface, their inhibitions melting away with each fervent touch.

Yet, just as they were on the brink of surrendering completely to their desires, the intrusive sound of the doorbell shattered the moment, pulling them back to reality with a jolt. Anthony's annoyance was palpable, a fleeting interruption threatening to derail their carefully constructed intimacy.


"Calm down, young man. You're lucky I haven't started yet," she cooed before rushing to answer the door. However, as she opened it, her expression darkened into a scowl. Though she contemplated running, shouting, or throwing a jab, her heart betrayed her, pounding so fiercely it felt as if it might leap out of her chest and singe her hair. Yet, the man at the door simply breezed past her without a glance.

Nazz took their breakup especially hard, exacerbated by the discovery of her relationship with Junior's friend. Seeing him not only revived fading memories but also intensified the recollection of the screams, slaps, and punches he had unleashed in fits of rage.

"Anthony, I need to talk to you!" she barked, stepping outside the room. Anthony politely shook the outstretched hand of the man before hurrying after her.

"Anthony, you know what he did to me, and yet you invited him?" Her eyes pierced into his curious face, filled with accusation.

"Babe, I didn't invite anyone. You know I wouldn't be so insensitive as to invite your ex to my home, let alone my birthday," Anthony responded earnestly.

"Then how is he here? You even shook his hand. The person who nearly killed me, and you didn't ask him to leave?" she hissed in frustration.

Meanwhile, Nazz heard nothing but rapid, muffled conversations behind the closed door. He was tempted to eavesdrop but dismissed the thought. Instead, he began to mimic Liz's voice in a falsetto, asking rhetorical questions:

"Why is Nazz here? How did he get here? Who invited him?" Despite the absurdity, his sculpted face remained stoic, devoid of even a hint of amusement. With disgust etched in his cold, dark eyes, he scanned their single-room apartment.

"Why are you talking like this? Maybe we should wait for Julie."

"Julie?" "Yes, I could call my ex and turn this into Anthony and exes birthday party," he said, mimicking the shape of a signpost with his hand. "Honestly, I'm disappointed. Do you think I'm that foolish?"

"But it's been months... What did you expect me to…”