Decisions.

I walk to the wall. It stinks. It is so broken from the hand grenade, there are chunks of it lying around on the floor. Scorching pieces, still steaming from the blast. I can tell they want to be whole again. Inside the wall, you can see the pipes that run through the house. The same pipes that provide the kitchen with water to wash the dishes. The same pipes that transfer the mess from the shitter.Its all a big mess, cause by one little grenade.

Eventually I woke up in a bed, hooked up to machines that kept me alive through the night. And somehow, I realized what happened. And I regreted everything I ever did to punish my body for being healthy. The dream I had, it was real. My wall really was ruined. I threw that grenade. I fucked up my own house. Nobodie's fault but mine....