My dreams are haunted by regret. I am tormented, twisted, morphed by the very thought of what I almost was.

He came to me. Sure, I was down on my luck. We all were in those days. I can make no excuse for my actions but I must make it clear now that he came to me.

Like I said, I was down on my luck; in a bad place. I was shooting stick down at Gino’s. I needed a release; a way to blow off steam after a long day. My opponent was dark and didn’t say much. When he did speak, it was in an unfamiliar accent that I found hard to understand. His black leather hat cast a shadow over his face and I found it hard to look him in the eye. I was winning.

“Eight-ball side pocket,” I said with false confidence. I missed. He could tell I was unhappy. “You alright there mate?” he said, with an air of discomfort.

“I just don’t know anymore.” Why did I say this? Why did invite this total stranger into my own problems? I kept talking. I told him everything: Where I was born, what my family is like, my hopes and dreams. I talked for hours. When I had nothing left to say I broke into hysteria. Tears came pouring out the corners of my eyes.

“My name’s Elijah,” He finally said, putting his hand on my shoulder. We made our way into a booth and it was his turn to talk. He had less to say. When the bartender told us that they were closing we both checked our watches.

“Time sure does fly,” I said, standing up.

“Listen,” he said “I’m having a small gathering of sorts. Just a few friends and colleagues. You’re right welcome to come.” He gave me his card. Finally, a friend. A ray of sunshine in a world of darkness.

Days came and went and finally it was time for the party. I was nervous. My life had been so bleak, I really wanted this night to go well. I arrived promptly at 8 o’ clock. I rang the doorbell. The door swung open to reveal Elijah in a brown, pinstriped suit.

“You made it!” He exclaimed with genuine excitement. I followed him inside and received glances from the many party-goers. I stood awkwardly by the punch bowl and felt the gaze of a large man in the corner, sipping what I assumed to be raspberry seltzer. I ignored him and began to mingle. I exchanged pleasantries with a rather dull man and his wife. I casually made my way to a man with a denim vest: the center of the party. He sure could spin a yarn. I was so entranced in his story, I hardly realized that the large man in the corner was still staring at me. The party slowly dwindled but the large man in the corner stayed, his glass now empty. Finally, it was only the three of us: Elijah, large man in the corner, and myself. He slowly made his way out of the corner and came to me.