As Dylan walks into an alleyway, he feels like something, no someone is following him. But turns around and sees no one is there. This is weird, he thought to himself but kept moving forward. I shouldn’t be here; I should be home with my wife and kid. The more he thought the more he felt someone was watching him. One drink wouldn't hurt his family, right? I mean what they don’t know can't hurt them. Dylan looked around some more but still, no one was to be seen. He took a bottle out of his brown paper bag. He was just about to take a sip of the dangerous addicting liquid when he again felt the same feeling of being watched, and this time he looked around and saw something but not so much a someone but more of a dark blurred figure of a man who looked just like him.  
The figure was at the end of the alleyway looking him dead in the eyes as if begging him not to take that first sip. Dylan looked at the bottle and then back at the figure, but it was gone. I'm going crazy he thought, looked at the bottle again, and just about took a sip when the strange dark shadow figure of a sad man was back coming towards him. Just before it had reached him, black punched Dylan in the face for a split second. It had vanished before his eyes, yet he still missed it. He looked down at his clothes, they were much slovenlier than he remembered, much like the shadow he had seen moments before but was doubting that he ever saw the thing. He slowly got up and left the alleyway, too bothered to even drink anything from the bottle. He wanted to see his family again, it had seemed like months since he had seen them, but it had only been mere hours. 
 I need to get a new suit he thought, I could never be seen like this by my family. He had dirt smudged on his face and a bit more stubble on his face than he remembered and had a strong scent of beer in his mouth even though he had not drunk a thing. Dylan disregarded it and went into a suit store, but shortly after found out he had no money. He ran out of the store and went to his home to be comforted by his wife and kid. But he was not greeted with kindness, his wife opened the door and then slammed it shut in his face. Dylan knocked again and his wife answered again and yelled. "You do not come here again you hear me? You may not have any money for your beer that you think is much more important than me and our kid. We're divorced remember? so stop coming by here!" The words hit Dylan like a stone wall, he had not even taken a sip from that blasted bottle and did not remember getting divorced from his lovely wife.  
He walked away from his house and got a lump in his throat. Suddenly, with a jolt, he was back in the alleyway he came from a brick lying beside his head. He stood up and held the bottle in his hand and looked disgusted at it. How could he ever have thought to drink such a vile liquid?   The shadow of misery had followed him around all day and knocked sense into him. He stood up, threw the bottle at the alleyway wall, and left it there. He walked home without taking another look, to see his wife and kid that he held close to his heart.