Reflecting on the day's event, Lucius was not displeased.  Granted, he met his demise shortly after waking and in a semi-sober state, but he was dead and that's what counted.  Having never been an extremely religious man, he was more shock that his ghostly spirit existed and was met by another who transported him through the light and into a line of other ghostly spirits.  It almost reminded him of standing inline at the grocery store to purchase booze.  The only difference being that the other patrons didn't smell of shit and alcohol.

When his time came to speak with the judges of all judges, his relatively quick verdict was nothing but a surprise.  While expecting eternity in hell he received guardianship of one little girl, Annabell.  It's seems saving a life counts for something, though not salvation, it could still be earned.  He was given till the death of the girl to earn his title as honorable human.  Till then, he was not allowed to show his presence or allow anyone to hear him.

Now reflecting on his guardianship, he wondered what would happened if he broke those rules or... better yet, if he'll ever be able to taste his sweet elixir once again.  He waited and waited, and though and thought until sunlight rose and he made up his mind.  He'll introduce himself again to Annabell as her guardian, but guardian of what he wondered?

At the time of THE incident, Annabell's other personality, Emily, took over.  Emily, knowing the procedures for trauma, continued to fade into a new world when she heard her mother call to her. 

"Annabell sweetie, are you okay?" said maniac mom as she frantically picked up Annabell and examined her for any shards or noticeable pain.  Emily, sensing no harm, allows Annabell to return to reality when maniac mom enters their apartment.

"What happened mommy?"  asked Annabell.

"Nothing honey!  Just go play in your room." said maniac mom as she ran to her dresser and picked one of her many suicide notes that she has written for her clients.  "I knew these would come in handy!"  she said aloud to herself while kissing the letter.  "Sweetie!" said maniac mom to Annabell.  "When the pigs arrive, just stay in your room."

Meanwhile, Lucius's body lays on the ground, blood oozing down the corridor and onto the first floor.  Maniac mom quickly walked over to Lucius and placed a suicide note in his jacket.  She then walked over to all the crackhead witnesses and paid them a hundred dollars each, more than enough for a day's high the satisfaction that the day's incident would turn into just a dream.

When the police arrived, the apartments erupted with pig noises and comments about bacon from all the tenants.  Everyone happily told the police that the crazed man commited suicide for no apparent reasons on the second floor with maniac mom's shotgun.  The day was filled with inquiries and outstanding strangers.  By the end of the day, everyone went to sleep happily and high. 

All but one who arose from the place Lucius was slain as a ghostly figure.  Lucius having awaken from his slumber, casually walked over to the little girl's apartment and waited.

Surprised with his own actions, Lucius attempted to remember what propeled him to such a heroic state.  Never in his life has he sacrificed himself for the better good, nor the well being of others.  Granted, he has thought about it on several occasions, and wondered what life would be if he had been a better person, or simply a decent neutral one.  As he attempted to critically think about his state, the fog of alcoholism slowly creeped over him and overcame his mentality with one single thought, booze.  And yet, a distant squeaky voice called out to him and with it, the fog dissipated and an instinct overcame him.

"Mister..." said the brave little girl decked out in pink and black.  "...my momma is is going to be mad when I get home...can you explain to her what happened?"

Lucius, dumbfounded at such a request, fool-hardedly agreed, though knowing that no mother in her right mind would reasonably listen to a urine-stench street peddling son-of-a-whore alcoholic walking anyone's precious daughter home.  She's more likely to bull a shotgun from behind the door and shoot him in the privates than offer a lemon scented tea sprinkled with rum.  But walked Lucius did.

As they walked together, the little girl slowly raised her hand and held Lucius's hand within her tiny black her.  "Thank you Mister!  I don't have many friends, this means a lot to me!" said the little girl.

Never having felt the warmth of another as an adult, the sensation that overflowed Lucius was unbelievable.  Could this be what being a father feels like, though Lucius.  "What's your name, kid?"

"Annabell" said the little girl, with a heart so big it could explode ay any minute.

Slowly walking up the stairs, Lucius felt it would be better to let the girl's hand go before her mother saw and drove her into a manic state.  Yet, as the hands slowly unclasped and departed, Annabell's mother walked one of her client's out the door.  With disheveled curly hair, shorts to short to be shorts, and a bra the motherly instincts of drug-induced motherhood took over. 

Without a single word, maniac mother reached behind the door, pulled out a shotgun, and shot Lucius through the heart.  Afterwards screaming, "My baby, are you alright?  What did that urine-stenched son-of-a-whore drunker do to you?"

Like a distant voice being transmitted to him over a thousand miles away, in a squeak, it said, "Why are you sleeping next to the light pole mister? Mister..."  Slowly dragging himself out of his sleeping states, Lucius awakens drunk.  Searching for his bottle, his elixir of euphoria, his memory inhibitor, his salvation... he staggers to his feet.  Anger raising, he rips his clothes hurriedly in search of his mini vodka he bought the night before he passed out for 2 dollars a hit.  "Jee Wizz Mister!  You need a shower!  What are you looking for?" said a little voice standing in the street with a scooter and a bag from the grocer.  With redden eyes and tears building in his mouth, the man's dry and thirsty voice utters "Bottle!"

"What are you, a baby? Only a baby needs a bottle mister!" said the brave little girl at the frighten Lucius.  "Is that you bottle in the clump of green, wet waste in the drain on the curb? Ewwwww!"

With a sigh of relief and full blown tears rolling down his eyes, Lucius reaches for his bottle with a heavy trembling hand.  Disregarding the waste and the smell of swear stench, he happily opens his bottles and drinks his poison.  "Thanks kids, you saved me from the jitter pains!  hmmm...my real savior"  replied Lucius.  As he puts his jacket back on and prepares for a few hours of begging with his Starving in Utopia...God Bless sign, it was like the world slows down as a car speeds around the alley corner.  In an hearing instant, Lucius jumps from his position and pulls the kid out of the way and onto the floor next to the light pole.  "You've could've been killed!" Lucius yelled.  The girl calmly picked herself up and sighed, "Now your my savior you dirty old man!" as she handed Lucius her mother's change.

Lucius awoke feeling bright and happy.  The smell of freshly cut grass surrounded his nostril.  The smell of woman filled his room and he slowly stirred awake.  Eggs and bacon sizzled in the kitchen.  The sound of television cartoon noised the room with children' insanity.  He was happy!  When he went to fish this woman cooking him breakfast into his arms, her face was faceless, emotionless, bleak.  When he turned to face his children, not existed!  Merely children's clothing filled with pillows.  A tear rolled down his eye when the truth dawn on him.  Rolling down his cheek onto his chin, and finally tumbling on the floor.  This single droplet of salty water bulldozed the floor.  Creating a cavity that soon became a sinkhole, which soon became a black-hole.  Slowly twisting and turning, reminiscent of a blender, Lucius elongated into the black-hole.  Awaken!  At last...it was just a dream.  Yet, those minutes in a happy dream were more real to Lucius that any waking reality.  Because reality was hell!

It's bright everyone!  The morning sun is shining, awakening the birds, the worms, and the humans stirring and zigzagging from mansions and hobbles.  The world is awakening with the happy energy that consumes all who relish it's potential.  Yet, one man's heart is not filled with that zealot energy that consumes the zigzagging humans.  This man's heart grieves with darkness in the shadows cast by the sun.  He does not wish to wake with the sun, wake with the birds, wake with the worms, or the zigzagging humans.  This man's hobbles are the cement floors that will never leave him.  A place as soft as his heart, and as clean as his teeth.  He spends his morning sleeping, because wake only brings thoughts of life's regrets and wishes for death.  His 18 hour sleeps brings adventures, joys, happiness, and a life worth living.  A life worth enjoying when the life he leads is nothing but suffering.  Although he doesn't use his name, this man was once know as Lucius.  A name he believes to be cursed since the day his mother conceived him in a brothel's bed!