The epilogue was quickly approaching and all I could think of was the last clean pair of shorts I currently wore.

Since the start of the year, I had been looking forward to the part of solitude where your body fills with determination. Now that my father's inheritance could be scribbled in three strokes, I could not get off my bed. I loosened my body, my soft back spread against the hardened mattress and tainted brown from the dirt in my shirt. I felt lifeless too, my hands dropped the book page first against my chest, up a finger width from my eyes and back down again. I wasn't excited for the ending enough to follow along. I wanted to return it. My shorts still smelled fine; the drive to the library would be a hassle.

The book had a hard cover, clearly proclaiming the author's thoughts of their work, and the world agreed. Gold ink stamped the front as a best seller. It was the sort of book that tried to be cool with the readers, the sort that had illustrations in every other page and over the top calligraphy for every title. It had the protagonist find all the power under the sun, marry women sculptured by the Romans, and had 'cool' fight scenes that always ended with victory.

The author struck me as one of the popular fan fiction writers who had become a published author. She probably thought she was everyone's favorite. I wondered how she'd react if she heard my opinion on the subject. Would it shatter her self image or would she shrug it off as an anomaly from the gloomy man that never left his room?

I glanced to the corner. The cat curled up on the oldest pile of undone laundry blocking my closet door. She saw me looking and struggled out a whispered meow, her clipped left ear twitched and I found my gaze drifting back to the book. I tried to ignore the ugly, sour feeling that stewed in my stomach. I stretched up the window against the back of my bed. Dim red sunlight; six-forty-five.

"Okay, I can do this." I heaved a heavy sigh and pushed off my blanket.

I brought my leg past the bed with uncertainty, looked down, and let my bare feet fall on the black fur that dusted the wood floor. The clothes, cans and boxes tended to shift around.  I sighed, reminding myself to clean it, I had done that yesterday, and the day before then. My drive way down to the street was steep enough to label the weekly action a hassle.

My head was light. I tiptoed around the familiar maze towards the open bedroom door. Behind it was a person length mirror that must be covered with dust. I wasn't sure, I found no reason to close the door. From the other crevices around the house, it couldn't be faring better.

The narrow hallway outside was spared of sunlight. The skylights on the ceiling were built to prevent that but they had long been caked over with dirt and old leaves. I walked past the two other bedrooms I frequently switched between, stuck to the wall for reassurance and squeezed myself through two potted plants that grew way past its roots.

I found the task easier than I thought. I wondered if my laziness to eat gave me merit, pinched my belly then felt my skin sink down. For once worry struck me. The plant has always been there, impeding my steps ever since I moved here. I flipped a nearby switch in hurry, watched the light flicker on, then rushed to the kitchen sink past the living room.

There were plenty of other plants as I walked by but they looked green enough; enough to wait another day. I looked around for the watering can, didn't find it, and grabbed a saucepan instead. It was enough to serve the purpose. I pulled the faucet on and the struggling wait was unbearable. I deemed half-full enough and ran back to the malnourished plant.

I quickly tipped the pan bottom side up into the large pot. I realized my mistake when cold touched my feet, later the grit of dirt. I stood in silence to prevent my breath from escaping. Mishaps were frequent enough that I learned such a thing. I checked my shorts for marks, walked to the bathroom and washed off the dirt. Few taints painted the sides but it could still be used. People never paid enough attention. One of the few things I learned far too late.

I came back into the hall. The muddy sludge on the floor made my head ache. My fathers 'advice' rang into my ears. The kind of advice that made no sense but you still did it because they were by your shoulders watching your every move. Well, he wasn't anymore so I left the water lingering on the varnished wood. I liked to do things one at a time. It was easier that way. Library first, mess later.

I walked to one of the backyard doors, the one by the laundry room. My hands clutched the knob, paused, then weakly twisted. The scent of day-old litter slowly drifted out the open door. The headache wasn't painful this time. I had already made up my mind. The fresh morning air felt much better. My abused nose was mostly a gift but today it was the latter.

My eyes drifted to the overgrown trees and weeds outside. The fair sunned sky and the musty air was a welcomed change. My mind drifted elsewhere and I carefully felt for my flip flops by the door mat. Anything but the litter, It can be done later. My back cracked when I bent for the in-swung door. Before it closed, the cat wobbled into the laundry room and stared me down with its cute moist eyes. I scuffed at its pathetic attempt for food, gripped the knob tighter, then immediately loosened my grip. The cat meowed.

I cursed the cat, held a sigh, then cursed the cat again for not having a name. The fault laid on my father but it was better to curse the living. I stepped back into the laundry room with my outdoor ware and reached for the shelf hugging the top right ceiling. Stacks of cat food piled its insides and I took out the can labeled 'salmon curry', cracked it open and shook it into the cat's food bowl. She ignored my hairy legs this time and went straight for the wet slur.

I frowned when the cat's belly hid its bowl two hands wide from the back. She wasn't always like that, there was always a certain someone that was mindful of her health. I heard a muffled feminine voice from the living room. It was painful and disapproving but more importantly, it was familiar. Horror struck me still as a tree. My bedroom door was wide open. My breath turned ragged and my vision blurred. Seconds later my head cooled down and I slammed the door shut. I did not like the voices; they were never simple.

I tossed the empty can into the trash bin and it was rejected down to the pavement.. They used to be recycled but it was too much effort to sort. The world had too many people for that effort to be significant. I paced for my gray van park on a rising. It was your everyday family van, worn in a few places and very old. The dirty roof and hood was a sour sight but it had to do for now; washing it was too much work. I clicked the driver seat open and scratched my itchy scalp in thought. Perhaps it was this exact logic that stopped the world from getting any greener. I changed my thoughts so it didn't hurt as much. The world had too many people for that in-effort to be significant. That sounded better.

My vision returned and I was already in the driver seat, reaching for the keys left on the ignition. The mechanical noise of the revving engine shook the entire van alongside my pleasant mood. Drills and electric saws, blenders and electric sharpeners, they always felt the same. It was either the sharp ring or the unnatural make. I liked to think it was the latter. Things aren't supposed to move so fast.

The headache returned to squeeze my eyelids when three twists didn't start the engine. I turned the keys once more, closed my eyes, did it again, closed them even harder then turned it again with full intentions of continuing the insane act. Luckily the engine revved in a steady beat, I let my lifeless hands fall on my lap. The engine was running.

My mind went blank from the thought of a broken van. Just thinking about it brought my head to shambles so I didn't think. I snapped the shift to reverse and rolled down the cracked sloped driveway. The belt was buckled midway. I didn't bother to check the road as I exited to the right. There was no reason for it, I had simply forgotten. The library was straight ahead so I shifted to drive and stuck to the right.

Besides being built within a thin forest, my neighborhood was as ordinary as they come. Decent homes, unchatty couples, loud teenagers, well kept front yards, except for my own. My lawn was the neighborhood dumpster. It practically begged to be littered; the throwables got buried under the summer grass within days. I didn't mind it as much until autumn hit. I had to pick up the unburied treasure before I'm fined for the stranger's misdeeds.

I slowed the van to a halt. The street exited into one of the two main roads connected to it.  I didn't find it necessary to learn its name. The only street I knew by heart was Peach Road, the words that came after the zip code of my address. I peered past the short bridge built over a twenty foot fall, strained my head to the right then stepped on the gas. The street was awfully peaceful for the time of day. I pinned it on a possible holiday and I didn't bother to confirm the thought. Checking the date reminded me of the ever thinning schedule I promised to keep. I didn't like being stressed.

Signs of life finally appeared. A truck and a car zoomed past the opposite road, both expensive and cleaner than my own. On the side road to the left, an old woman hugged a fenced off land with wide strides, the sweatbands on her forehead and wrist a distinct pink that stuck out from her clothing. I shook my head at the absurdity of it. Her new clothes were a waste of money, worse than her insignificant efforts. She had waited too long to thin down her wide belly.

A playful urge wished me to roll down the window, poke my head out and yell something wrong. I did just that, felt for the window switch, pressed it down, and poked my head into the cool rushing breeze once the glass retracted all the way. The woman noticed my gesture and stared. Light glistened on her deep wrinkled face. I opened my mouth, paused then relaxed it into a smile. I caught her friendly wave on the side mirror well after I passed her.

I didn't do it, well, I tried to but I couldn't. Something within me, something I can't put to words stopped me. Moreover, I was dumbstruck. Her face was covered in sweat, something that should've been impossible in this humid morning. Embarrassment soon washed over and I rolled my eyes for forgetting my age. I dropped out of high school years ago; My foolishness should've left me back then.

My fingers fidgeted, toes threatened to, if my fear for the road didn't prevail. The wind was cool at times and less so in odd places so I focused on it. It helped me ignore the stinging feeling in my head. I shouldn't have thought of it, now my mood will never recover.

The rest of the journey was blank. The decision forced on me broke my daze; stay in the van or get out. The choice seemed obvious; enter the library and return the book. I didn't want to. I was dying to get under my bed sheets, order a meat lover's pizza and spend the day online. It took me a while to realize the plan would add more to my responsibilities. I got out.

My feet landed on pavement. The parking lot was not the prettiest; The only cover against the nearby streets being a single traffic post with evident wear. I looked ahead, the red brick building was plain as ever. Perfect shapes, monotone colors and the clean of modernity ruined the look. I scuffed as I cut across the wet lawn for a better pace. It was supposed to be a place of learning and creativity. What can people learn here but to never stick out?

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The unpleasant stench of fresh cigarettes stained the air. I grimaced, looked around then stopped walking when my face was sheltered from the sun. A mess of flattened rolls piled up by the porch bin. I wiggled my fingers like morning worms and snapped my tongue. My mind didn't work right and this didn't help in the slightest. I wasn't exactly against smoking; People could choose what to do with their life. I just couldn't fathom why the cigarette butts were tossed on the floor, mere inches away from the bin. It was infuriating.

People were hard to understand, hard to get around. Life would be much easier if I could do just that and I did try; My psychology studies never got anywhere. As long as comfort was out of the equation, a certain cog in my head turns half an hour in, the same cog that accompanies a heartbreak or a heavy meal, makes you unfocused and lethargic for the rest of the day. I always returned to what I did prior. Usually it's binging videos online, playing video games for the sole sake of passing time or leaving novels half read, never complete. My brain was at fault. If it were any dumber, I would've needed to study for classes; It never learned to learn.

The glass double door automatically slid open and faint cool jazz calmed my nerves. Set on each corner of the foyer were potted plants too green to be real, on the opposite side of the foyer, another set of double doors led into the library. I let myself get engrossed in the music's melody; I needed the distraction from otherwise barging through the women's restroom door where the smell of smoke trailed into.

A few steps later, the room became less claustrophobic, perhaps even agoraphobic. The height fit for two stories were merged into one yet the shelves methodically arranged themselves only an arms length up. The floor was lined with industrial carpeting but the view elsewhere was pleasantly nice. Paintings and sculptures lined the walls where it could and the rest on wood framed pedestals. Flower vases mimicked the multicolor book covers decorated the side tables, heavy leather couches were set by them yet to be occupied. The colors were a gimmick to hide the quality underneath. If the cheap make of the furniture wasn't obvious enough, the words behind their covers were aged relics kept on display. I felt foolish. The internet stopped interesting me months ago, what did I expect from books?

The circular reception desk was to the side, a familiar woman lazily cared for the stacks of books recently piled. She seemed to work the morning shifts from the three times I've been here. I walked towards her, the music flared up as I did. A speaker set on the table faced right at the worker, the music choice definitely her own doing.

"Alex, Good morning."

I had to remind myself of her name with a quick glance to her name plate. Alex was sorting books into a storage box, books probably back loaded from last evening's shift. She straightened her back and greeted me with her usual smile; I didn't want to interrupt her work but I wanted to leave as soon as I could.

"What can I do for you sir?"

Her wavy blonde and freckled face along with her floral loose dress stripped my mind's guard. Absent her husky voice, she pictured an English teacher to a tee. I cupped my lips to clear my throat. Its use after days of slumber was unnatural.

"I would like to return a book please."

"No problem. Can I have your Id and your-?"

I expected her request and reached into my pockets. I found it empty, paused, then patted each of them once more. I went over my butt just in case my shorts had pockets there. I soon realized I had left it back at home; I didn't recall looking for it back then. I wasn't able to hold back my sigh. The pressure of Alex's stare got to me. I gave an awkward smile.

"I seem to have forgotten it back home. Can you perhaps do whatever you need to get done with my information on record?"

A reasonable request, I surmised. The county attached my name to the book when I rented it. I looked at Alex with expectancy, what I saw in return was a pair of puzzled eyes.

"Sure, hand me the book and I can get it sorted out sir."

I attached her confusion to my stuttered words. After the clarification however, I didn't know what to think. I hated myself; that was clear.

"Sir?"

I opened my eyes when I realized they were closed and turned around without saying another word. I knew the truth of the matter but my body still needed proof. I just hoped I was wrong. I returned to the foyer where a woman currently stood. She reeked of smoke and based on the swinging bathroom door, a few words needed to be said. Her hair and skin were freshly cleaned and dried. Her musky mismatched clothes and bag clued me into her situation and I didn't hold back.

"You wouldn't be homeless if you gave up on those cigarettes."

Perhaps it was my demeaning look, the tone of my passionate declaration, the truth of it or the combination of all three, the woman was first startled but quickly locked eyes and scowled. I backed off a little afraid of an imminent scuffle, my tingling nerves got to me. I looked up and saw a blinking red light directed in our direction. I soon relaxed and opened my mouth once more. It just felt good to do so.

"Yeah, that's right. Get a fucking job before you fall over and make the state pay for your charred lungs."

The woman refused to say a word. Tension formed in the air along with a headache so I decided to leave before both rose too high. I felt her eyes stay on me even after I passed her and headed to the van. I didn't mind it too much. If she decided to retaliate, footage from the foyer was enough to incriminate her. That would be my revenge.

I rolled my eyes when the door buckled; I left the keys in the ignition. I moved my eyes around the front and back hoping the crimson cover would stick out like a sore thumb. I did not. I was never one to drop my self esteem but there was no one else to blame. Unlike a year ago, there was no one to remind me, no one to criticize me, no one to fault me. I massaged my face twice with my hands but that didn't seem to stop its pulse. I was dying for my room.

Alex suddenly came to mind, I cringed. I needed to talk to her when I returned with the book and me leaving her hanging will make the later chat awkward. I pushed off the floor's edge and shut the van's door. I didn't forget to lock it this time, two beeps sounded behind me as I walked back to the library.

I didn't look forward to confronting the smoker again. Luckily she was not on the porch nor the foyer. I strode towards the reception desk hoping she was lost in the grandness of the hall. I was lucky.

"Your back! Looks like you don't have the book on you."

Alex had her smile up again but I felt like doing the opposite; She didn't address me as 'sir'. I felt like I lost something important but I couldn't complain. It was my own actions that made her see it fit to do so.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I- didn't drink my coffee yet. I'll be back with the book and my Id later today."

"People do it all the time, not a big deal."

She said it with confidence but I knew it was a lie. Customer service was trained to be kind. It drew in more clients. I politely nodded at her directed pity and walked for the door. I shook my head at the subtle tone that most would ignore. Months ago, I vigorously retorted anything that questioned my power. Now not so much. A whole year of isolated retrospection quelled my ego.

"If you're going to a store, can you grab me a coffee as well? I wouldn't mind the extra caffeine."

I was taken aback by the sudden request. I turned back only to see Alex comically waving her fingers over her black rimmed eyes. I questioned her with a look and twitched my lips in response. I did not do charity.

"I'll pay for it when you get back of course."

Right. My common sense was the last thing I wanted to question. I acknowledged her with a nod and continued on my way. I never planned to drink coffee myself, I had simply borrowed the phrase for its convenience. I glanced at Alex from the side. She diligently thinned the stacked books on the counter. I wondered how she kept her smile even without anyone addressing her. The swoosh of the automatic door signaled me to stop staring. I felt a pleasant itch on my cheeks, I did not want to be caught.

I sat in my car for minutes I did not register. I was weighing my options, deciding what to do with Alex's request. Usually, it wouldn't have been much of a debate. Much work was pending at home, work that I planned to do right after the book. Yet the usual headache accompanying the change of plans never arrived. It was the first in a long time.

The whistle of a passing car reminded me to get going. I doubted the morning rush would arrive given the travel here but I didn't want to take any chances. I revved the engine and slowly rolled into the street. There were no vehicles behind or in front of my lane so I let my thoughts take hold. Alex was beautiful, too beautiful for the like of myself. I doubted our relationship becoming anything more than acquaintances. It was just a favor, nothing more.

My chest was burning so I took in deep breaths. That was the reality I had to accept but somehow I couldn't. I wasn't ready. I had no job, no family, no responsibility. I repeated these multiple times in my head yet that didn't seem enough to quench the heat. I decided to stop by a barista. That cooled me down.

I neared an intersection right as it turned red. Cars on the adjacent road eagerly rushed forward on their turn. A flock of birds perched on the cables running the lights. I watched them groom each other then took a deep sniff. I should definitely wash myself soon. Suddenly the world around me slowed to a crawl. My eyes widened and I couldn't feel a single part of my body. The brake pedal I pushed all the way back ignored my every intention to stop. The pedestrian crossing line was already underneath and I was nowhere close to a stop. I wanted to squish the breaks repeatedly but my legs turned firm and it wouldn't budge.

I nudged my arms a little and it seemed to move. I gave it all my trust. Traffic was mostly clear; the cars had already driven off from their park. I saw one coming towards me from the right, by instinct I jerked the van towards it hoping to avoid a collision. I tried to keep my body steady but my shoulder bashed the window hard. It didn't hurt, maybe a little but my eyes stayed peeled on the road. It seemed to have worked, I dodged the car by the skin of my teeth.

A loud honk behind thanked me for the save, I welcomed it with a forced smile. I hoped to merge on the right, let the drag slow me down then take a nice piss on someone's lawn. Currently, I was turning against traffic, my speed made the turn too wide. There was no barrier separating opposite lanes so It was a simple matter of keeping the wheel turned until I was safe.

I met a pair of eyes.

The man was young, too young to have a chatty daughter on the passenger seat of his car but the resemblance was undeniable. The man looked straight ahead and locked his gaze with me. I didn't know eyes could bulge out the socket and face turn paler than a sheet of paper. Was this how I looked? The girl was holding a rainbow colored doll, her face was too bright to be knowing of her father's crisis, a crisis I shared.

I saw the man's hands move to my right. He would soon block my trajectory so I had to make a choice, veer left or stabilize straight. Left was a terrible choice, the curb along with the wide ditch past it would make my survival a miracle. My only option was straight ahead. Perhaps my brain was burning its expectancy for momentary gain, or my talents for foresight emerged out of stress, I couldn't tell. Either way, I was able to see the immediate future.

We would crash. I will survive. The struggle with the airbags would take some time but I would eventually push myself out. The right side of my van would be caved in as it absorbed the momentum of its assaulter's right. The man's right.

Something got to my head and I knew it was going to kill me. I tried to shove it back to its depths, to whatever jolly wonderland it came from, I stopped thinking outright. I didn't know my trust would be misused, I would've never given it away if I knew; I veered to the left.

The moment I did, my up became left, right became down, down became up. I couldn't tell anymore really. When the car grazed the back of my van, the semblance of control I mustered off road tumbled down and I was forced to follow. It was loud, that was all I knew. The annoying metallic shreaks soon faded, rather, everything went silent. The world stopped shaking too. I tried to open my eyes to get a good look at the mess I've made, my eyes wouldn't budge, I didn't even know where they were. My legs and hands were all the same. Parts of me that have been with me my whole life, abandoned me within seconds. I wasn't too shocked. It was a familiar feeling.

I was left with my thoughts alone and even that was slowly leaving me. I grew tired as I contemplated my own death. I was experiencing it, I was certain. I was surprised at how nonchalant I took it. My own life didn't feel important to me. People say your life flashes before your eyes. It was a lie, nothing new. I wondered what the police would think of my messy home. Would they find humor in my death or shame me for my doings? My father's cat didn't have a collar. I wanted to know what the animal shelter would name her. Scratchy, Meowzer, Beggar? They all suited her.

My thoughts turned cloudy. I'd be leaving Alex hanging again. I was looking forward to a conversation but the opportunity didn't feel like a loss. All my interests faded within days, it would've surely happened to her as well. My mind went dark. The last thing I thought of was the daughter's smile. I protected it with my life, it felt good.

-

My body felt bloated and warm, my limbs a jelly mess. I felt the air bags rub against me, someone was pulling me out. I didn't know how much blood I lost, my skin was wet and sticky. The revelation of retained life wasn't satisfying. A part of what's left of me wished to have died in the crash. I wanted to feel heroic in my last moment. Once I can see again, once the daily news is shoved into my mailbox, I would surely be labeled a reckless driver who almost killed a child. The media would never hold back, and I will slowly believe it.

I flailed my body like a spoiled child back into my death bed. I didn't want to live disabled, I didn't want to live in debt, I wasn't ready to accept my responsibilities. I knew I was a coward as well. I could never take my own life. I crawled deeper in, my congested arms pried itself into anything it felt. It wasn't enough, my rescuers were too persistent.

I was too tired to keep up with their pull and with time, I reluctantly gave in. I was squeezed out into cold reality. The person responsible for my legs held it tight and another came for my head and shoulders. I felt dizzy. I was being moved around with sudden jerks and my lungs felt heavy. I couldn't stop myself from coughing. It didn't hurt to my surprise, in fact, the ordeal was mostly discomforting.

I felt my back rest on a stretcher and I let it succumb to the warmth. There were odd noises around and one directly above me, no siren I heard before, it was annoying. I tried to blindly request it to stop. My jaw must've been dislocated, only muffled nonsense came out of my mouth. My head stung and I couldn't take it anymore. I felt for my eyes and immediately opened them. The light was nauseating, my vision was unfocused. I pushed through both and glared above. I was going to stare it down to its death.

The sight I saw left me baffled. I regret opening my eyes, now that it was open, I couldn't get it to close. The sight was unbelievably surreal. I was afterall-

-living in a world of giants.