Another Day Simon - 16th August He couldn't believe it. He really couldn't believe it. He stared up the road, imagining the horror that must have happened to his best friend... Mere meters from his own home. His heart wrenched a little. How would he cope without him? He hadn't been without him since he was eleven... He'd known him fourteen years. He'd become a brother, the guy he went to when everything went wrong. Where was he now? Laying cold and motionless on some funeral home slab, as they attempted to make him look presentable for his open casket viewing. He could feel his breathing quicken and his throat closing... He ran into the house before the neighbours saw. Another seven vodka shots later, and he'd decided that perhaps he'd had enough alcohol to make him want to call up his ex. He still had her on speed dial. "Sally, Sally, Sally... I know Ryan doesn't know we went out. And I know you guys are through now, but do you fancy coming over... I just need you riiiiiiiight now." he could feel his words slur in his mouth. "Simon, you're drunk. Go to bed. If you still want to talk, call me in the morning. I have something to tell you anyway." she finished abruptly. Simon stared at the speaker, as if trying to work out why he could no longer hear her. Annoyed, heart broken and lonely, he launched his phone at the wall. Watching it shatter, he expected to feel some satisfaction. Instead he only imagined the phone as Jerry, and the wall being the stationary car. Tears warned his cheeks. That night, he cried himself to sleep again, and the guilt of his location haunted his dreams... If only he hadn't need a lift home. His vest friend and only family could still be alive...