As the flames licked around him, Brian moved closer into the room and away from the mess of his making. The bottle of Jack still in his hand clenched like a hammer.
The room has already turned orange red as the curtains started to burn.
All the painting he had so painstakingly crafted for years have started to turn to ash.
His mind raced back to the sweet memories; before the pain, sorrow and suffering had crept in.
His eyes turned watery as he looked on at the inferno rising like a blissful demon in front of him.
The bottle of Jack in his hand fell as the flames touched his soul.
He thought back to Sophie, her face, her embrace, her grace and all the moments they have had.
Before the betrayal, the pain, the bitterness and suffering came in.
He pushed all that from his mind and focused on the happy times.
Of the time spend crafting those portraits and not of setting them ablaze with the bottle of regret.
As the fire hugged him he wanted to scream, yet he just stood there imagining it to be nothing more than a hot shower taken in haste.
And the rain of the good memories as the counteractive blissful drizzles from the clouds in heaven.