Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes had turned into hours. Hours turned into days. It had been days since he had moved all of his things from the apartment he once shared with Sterling. And since that day, Henry had hardly left his small stateroom in the Ark. The small porthole on the wall was the only thing that told Henry time was moving on. The sun would rise and then set but it still felt as though time was standing still. Sterling was gone. Left. Packed up and got out of dodge. Henry didn't think he would ever do such a thing, but he had and now Henry was feeling nothing but absolute hopelessness.
Even as the days were slowly passing, Henry kept himself locked in his room, only exiting on occasion to eat although he wasn't very hungry. He looked terrible, his face was losing its definition, his eyes clouded by dark bags. He hadn't been sleeping as well as he probably should be, and it was showing. There wasn't really anything in the world to make him happy anymore. Nothing to look forward to, nothing to keep him motivated.
In the days that had passed, he had been a terrible pack member. He ignored the questions of the others from outside his door, asking if he was alright. He turned back to drugs, the only thing that seemed to make him feel anything other than completely numb. He was in such a deep depression that he cannot deny that a thought or two had passed through his consciousness that would land him in a mental institution. Who would mourn his loss if he was gone? Would anyone care if he just went to sleep and never woke up? Surely no one would.
There was a knock on his door and Henry groaned as he rolled over in the bed, pulling the covers back over his face. "Leave me the fuck alone." Perhaps they would hear his voice, know that he was alive, and then leave him alone. He didn't want to see anyone, let alone talk to anyone. He sighed, pulling the covers tightly over his half-naked body. Were these boxers even clean? He didn't know anymore.