[h1][center][color=007236]Morning... because fuck it.[/color][/center][/h1]

Hunter woke up falling on the floor in the living space from the couch. He would like to imagine he fell off in his sleep and woke up when he hit the floor, but it was not exactly like this. Wake up, back sore, sit up, trip on floor, hit face on floor. "[color=007236]I... love mornings.[/color]" He raised his face off the floor and looked at his watch. 

[center]-07:47-[/center]

"[color=007236]Morning... awesome.[/color]" He spoke in a dead tone as he stood himself up. He made it to the kitchen by the time he remembered what he had done the night before. It took all he had not to break down in tears. He made a selfish choice, too scared to lose something amazing. So he ended it before it could become something. Though, it was already too late for that. "[color=007236]Juice... I need juice.[/color]" He opened the fridge for some apple juice, he needed to quit drinking no matter how much emotional stress he was in. He wasn't going to lose it again

Though after what seemed like hours of searching he couldn't seem to find any. What he did find was two cans of beer sitting in the fridge. But he wasn't that man anymore, so he went to close the fridge. But he stopped. He couldn't do it. Before closing it he reached in and grabbed one of the cans pulling his hand out as his other hand slammed it. Almost as if that hand was trying to stop the other.

He held the can and opened it, but he just continued to hold it, his hand shaking as he held it. "[color=007236]GOD DAMMIT![/color]" He screamed as he threw the can at the glass door to the deck, the window cracking as the can about exploded. He stood, shocked at what he had done. He didn't enjoy lashing out, though it seemed the more he tried to quite the more things got worse his anger got. He was convinced that the more he drank the more angry he got. What if he was just an angry person. 

He sat on the kitchen floor, his back against the fridge trying to get an idea of what was really going on. "[color=007236]What if I succeeded... more or less... what if I am in a coma or something... what if I am dead and I am just in Hell. Hell seems a lot like life... Which I guess makes sense...[/color]" He kept rambling on as he tried to sort out his thoughts. Many of which would not make sense to him if he was looking at it form an outside perspective.