Max
The hard wood under me creeks as I lift my body off the cold bench. I rub my shoulders as I sit all the way up and adjust my eyes to my surroundings.
It's cold, and foggy and I can feel a little wetness on my cut, most likely laying in the damp grass all night long.
It's been two days since I have been released and from the moment I got out and got away from Onyx, I've been completely drunk. It's ironic that I wound up at a park that I used to imagine bringing my kids to. It's the same one mom used to take Austin and I to before we would go and visit dad at the compound. Often times Shane would be there with us, but right now, it merely feels like a lonely, cold, desolate place.
I hate that I have returned back to the pathetic drunk that would drink each and every time something ba
