Despite the loud punk-metal playing, he heard the knock. He debated whether he should open the door. Two days had passed since he came back from the hospital. Knock-knock.

He tried to get up and stumbled. The bottle of rum and the pills fell from the side table. The Offsprings blaring on the system cushioned the noise. He limped towards the door.

The knock grew more restless.

Glen opened the door.

It was Maggie. And she was shocked. Her face told it all. Her eyes were moist. She offered a shaky smile and an inaudible "Hi."

It had been 3 weeks since she had last met Glen. The sun had tumbled around her 21 times. She was trying not to cry. Glen turned and limped to his bed. Maggie wiped her eyes, took a deep breath and followed.

"I'm so sorry Glen."

Glen looked up. He had been looking at his feet. The glass pieces from the bottle of rum had pierced his feet. Painkillers won't let you know when or how you bled to death.

Maggie saw all the blood gushing out of his heel. The dams broke. She was crying. Crying very hard. Silent tears rolled down Glen's face. He was too weak to cry.

Maggie bandaged his left foot. The right one was in a plaster. She picked the glass pieces and wiped the floor. She began searching for another bottle. She found a half empty bottle of vodka. She made both of them large ones.

Glen swallowed it all in one go. He sought relief by the inflammation in his throat. But seconds later it all came out and he puked on the bed. Maggie ran to help him but he shoved her away; or at least tried to.

Death and sorrow trivialize physical pain.

Maggie sat next to Glen. He smelt of dried perspiration - rancid cheese and burnt coffee beans. His face bore the physical scars of the tragedy. His red eyes bore all the anguish. His right hand was heavily bandaged. The world had come to an end.

"Take a hot shower. It'll help," suggested Maggie.

Glen looked out of the window. It was still raining. Or maybe it had stopped and started again. Time had ceased to exist.

"Glen…" Maggie held his hand.

Glen got up. Maggie helped him undress. She kissed him softly. She embraced him, careful not to hurt him. Glen just stood there. Maggie knew it meant nothing to him now, this moment. Stan had died. Stan meant the world to Glen. Friendship was euphemism for what they shared. They were brothers born out of two separate wombs.

Stan had had a piece of steering in his chest and windshield in his eyes. Glass was even found in his stomach. The coroner concluded he might have unintentionally swallowed pieces of glass flying all around during the crash. Three of Stan's teeth were found in the Drunk's Land Cruiser. The Drunk had survived, like Glen.

But Glen was better off. The Drunk was now confined to his bed. Had to pee and shit into tubes for the rest of his life. Was this misery or punishment?

Glen had plunged into coma for few hours after he was brought in the hospital. Tears streamed down his face when he opened his eyes. His mother was sitting beside him reading out the Bible and his dad stood next to the door. He never asked about Stan. Maybe he knew.

The water pouring overhead seeped warmth into him. Maggie had fixed him a nice hot meal. Glen pulled on fresh clothes and looked in the mirror. He saw bruises and cuts. This face had changed; the man in the mirror wasn't Glen.

He chewed on slowly. He never knew he was this hungry.

The phone rang.

Maggie received it. "Hello… Hi... yeah I thought I should make myself useful… He's better now… please hold on."

"Glen, it's Stan's mom."

Glen put down his spoon and picked up the phone. He looked at Maggie.

He thought she would cry again. She knew he would cry again. "You don't have to talk if you don't feel like it Glen."

"Hello," choked Glen. And burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry, aunty. I should have never asked him to drive me home" said Glen sobbing.

He choked.

"I feel cheated by life, aunty. I wish I die too." And then Glen was silent for sometime.

Tears ceased.

"I promise. I don't know how long I'll last. But I won't cry again…I miss him. I'm very sorry aunty. I'll see you soon. Bye."

Maggie was looking away, pretending she hadn't seen him cry on the phone, again. She put down the magazine she had been forcing herself to read and said "Finish up and we'll go to the store. You are out of stock. The new Creed album is out and has got rave reviews. You've been waiting for it."

Glen nodded. Life had moved on, all this while, overtaking him and knocking down his best friend.