I used to stay up late at night worrying about grades.

Thinking about my future and how it would kill me.

Thinking about my past and how I could've bettered it.

Thinking about my present and how I'm a wheel in the societal cog.

Every night,

Pondering the frivolous teenage experiences I was missing out on.

Wondering if sacrificing a carefree attitude was worth all the stress and school work.

Scared that my future self would only have more regrets to live through.

Funny how human mindsets can change in the blink of an eye.

As all form of society crumbled in a single hour

With the first bite.

Suddenly, I wasn't worrying about my social anxiety.

Didn't even think about my differing sexuality,

My small group of mates,

Or my disdain over my appearance.

Suddenly, it was all about survival.

Something Primal.

Something Carnal.

Something Freeing.

Still, there are times where I can almost swear to missing the old times.

To want the feeling of security.

To be able to go out and eat real food,

instead of the same reheated sclop of our school lunch.

I reflect on the days of old, grimacing with every bite of old and cardboard-tasting pizza,

When a forgotten danger reaches the corner, dragging the rest of their body behind.

My old teacher, Mr. Fredericks.

I sigh and put the last piece in my mouth before taking aim, and releasing the shot.

He wasn't someone who deserved this

No one was.

And yet I can't help but not budge in my apathy.

Yeah, I can almost wish to turn back the time, and have all of life be the same again.

Finishing the slice, I hear another footstep behind me and reload the gun.

Almost.