Gone Forever

“Cayden, where are you?” Cayden met the question in stoic silence. If it weren’t for its continuous ringing, disturbing him from his sleep, he would not have answered the d*mn call.

Impatience crossed his unkempt features, but he did not utter a word, remaining silent on his end of the line.

Even if he wanted to answer, he couldn’t because his mouth felt like cotton.

He rubbed a finger to his bloodshot eyes and sighed. He looked around his room - the bedroom he shared with Wyoming and saw beer cans scattered all over the floor.

He rose from the floor. In his drunkenness, he was not able to transfer to the bed before sleep claimed him. He tripped on an empty bottle of Whisky and it rolled off the floor.

Cayden stumbled but quickly pressed his palms on the wall for support, groaning in pain.

He kicked the other cans that littered the path to the bathroom and swore under his breath.

If Wyoming could have seen this mess, he bet he would get a thorough scolding. But she could not see