It was the year 1999.

You just went outside from grocery shopping when you saw him in a dumpster. You'd recognize that hair anywhere, or that voice muttering curses. It was Tyler.

He was rummaging through the trash, probably looking for anything that was still eatable. He looked worn out, clothes dirty, and you didn't know if what you were smelling was the trash or him.

You'd known him for years, you knew he lived in that abandoned house in paper street that was falling apart, no clean water, no properly working light or fridge.

You hadn't seen him in a few months, things must've gotten worse for him. You walked closer.

"Tyler?"