Regrets

Derrick opened the door to his apartment and stood at the threshold. This was usually when his toddler would come teetering over to him, arms stretched wide with a green binky clasped in her four little teeth. His son would be running around, since he was one of three kids in his class being tested for ADHD, probably with the toy car he'd gotten for Christmas clasped tightly in his hands. Dr. Phil would be wrapping up his session with his guests just in time for Judge Judy to take over. The cat in the window would be stretching, debating whether or not to investigate him. His girlfriend would be in the kitchen, yelling at one of her friends in Cantonese as she tore open cupboards trying to figure out what they were going to eat.

Now, there was nothing except the cat, who barely came around anymore. Derrick dropped his coat on the floor and went past the living room where bullet holes still riddled the furniture. He passed the dark bloodstain on the floor where he'd found his daughter and the microwave with the glass in the door shattered. He pulled a bottle out of the refrigerator, the only thing he still kept in there, and sat on the couch and looked at the Swiss cheese holes in the TV and pondered again why he didn't get enough money to move them out of this hell hole sooner.