The birds were chirping. It was already morning. Felix sat there in the dirt of the hole he buried for himself after he just got done burying his own friend's kids. He was bloodied and overall a mess. And there he stares, at that grey rabbit marionette doll thing Molly used to carry around, he hates looking at it but can't keep his gaze away. It was just as bloody as he was. In his trance, while it stares at him and he stares back he thinks of himself dead in that very car he crashed because he knew it would've been better than this. He knows he has to climb out of this and he eventually does. Getting up, he stumbles his way and puts his arm around a tree nearby for balance. Was he still intoxicated? Only God knows.