Decisions are cheap.

Actions, those have a price.

The problem is, he has nowhere to go. He needs to leave, needs to find his own way, but the world is too big, too dark, too heavy.

And yet his life is the same. Too small, too dark, too heavy.

He can't count the number of times he's stood outside the door, listening to the steady breathing, knowing that it would be only a moment's work to enter the room, slip the wallet and keys from the neglected trousers' pockets, and be gone.

But what then?

Where next?

He can't rely on staying unnoticed forever. The car can be tracked, the credit cards. All he'll have is a handful of cash. Not even enough to reach state borders, let alone begin a whole new life.

He's afraid. Afraid to stay. Afraid to go. Sometimes it feels like fear is the only thing that's real, his soul too exhausted to feel anything else.

There has to be something better than this.

But, he knows, there's always the chance it could be worse. At least this fear is his, he knows how it flows and ebbs. It's not comfortable, but it's familiar.

A snore echoes from the room and he flinches back, fleeing on silent feet to his own room, panicked breath muffled by one hand as he tries to pretend he's asleep.

Another day. Keep your head down. Don't talk back. Do as you're told. Don't flinch. Shut up. Speak up. Get out. Where are you going. Don't cry. Don't look so defiant.

He has to get out. He'll never be good enough, never strong enough.

He muffles his sobs against his pillow, fighting back tears. He can't keep living like this. It's burning through him, leaving him cold and empty.

He has to get out.

He stands by the door, listening in the dark. Maybe today he'll act. Maybe tonight he'll be less willing to face the known than the unknown.

But where could he go? What could he do?

Decisions are cheap. Actions have a price.

He needs a plan, but he's so tired. So afraid. So empty.

Not tonight. He doesn't have the strength.

Maybe tomorrow.