Think Happy Thoughts
Shut Up, I'm Fabricating
Where the fuck am I?
My hands shot to my temple, suddenly becoming aware or the ear splitting headache I had possessed while I was asleep. I forced my eyes open, trying to decipher where I was. Scanning my surroundings, all I could see was trash, rats, shit, more trash, empty bottles, grime and junkies. Yup, that's a Baltimore alleyway for ya.
You have to get up, Lex. Tom will be worried. Maybe not though.. I mean, this wouldn't be the first time I would come home reeking of stale booze, sex and sweat. My heart sank at the thought of the times I'd come home drunk on one of my frequent rampages. Screaming and throwing anything I could get my hands on. Tom tried, he really did. He would take my booze away from me and smack some sense into me. He tried locking me in the bathroom until I sobered up, but all he got out of that was a broken mirror. Some could say I had a drinking problem.. but I didn't think so. So what? I liked to have a drink after a hard day. I'm just fabricating. Life was tough, my parents were gone, leaving Tom to take me on as his baby brother. School sucked. Yeah, I had friends.. but none that I was really close to. None that I trusted. I partied a lot, and I had more than my fair share of one night stands..What can I say? I liked to keep things fresh. I was never the person to settle down and stay committed. The girls didn't seem to mind much anyways. Don't get me wrong.. I'm not some heartless, horny teenager. I have emotions too. But you won't see them, ever. Like I said, I keep to myself.
Soon enough, all my senses had become mildly alert. I realized I was clutching something in my right hand... glass? I raised my arm to see a tall bottle filled with whiskey. I jumped up, bones cracking, muscles burning in protest. Oh sweet whiskey... how I've missed you so...
After what you could call a drunken giggle at my jesting comment, I tipped the bottle towards my mouth, the dark brown liquid searing my throat. It was comforting.. as I had long since been acquainted the sharp burn. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hands, then my hands on my torn and battered jeans. And started to stumble in the direction of home.
My hands shot to my temple, suddenly becoming aware or the ear splitting headache I had possessed while I was asleep. I forced my eyes open, trying to decipher where I was. Scanning my surroundings, all I could see was trash, rats, shit, more trash, empty bottles, grime and junkies. Yup, that's a Baltimore alleyway for ya.
You have to get up, Lex. Tom will be worried. Maybe not though.. I mean, this wouldn't be the first time I would come home reeking of stale booze, sex and sweat. My heart sank at the thought of the times I'd come home drunk on one of my frequent rampages. Screaming and throwing anything I could get my hands on. Tom tried, he really did. He would take my booze away from me and smack some sense into me. He tried locking me in the bathroom until I sobered up, but all he got out of that was a broken mirror. Some could say I had a drinking problem.. but I didn't think so. So what? I liked to have a drink after a hard day. I'm just fabricating. Life was tough, my parents were gone, leaving Tom to take me on as his baby brother. School sucked. Yeah, I had friends.. but none that I was really close to. None that I trusted. I partied a lot, and I had more than my fair share of one night stands..What can I say? I liked to keep things fresh. I was never the person to settle down and stay committed. The girls didn't seem to mind much anyways. Don't get me wrong.. I'm not some heartless, horny teenager. I have emotions too. But you won't see them, ever. Like I said, I keep to myself.
Soon enough, all my senses had become mildly alert. I realized I was clutching something in my right hand... glass? I raised my arm to see a tall bottle filled with whiskey. I jumped up, bones cracking, muscles burning in protest. Oh sweet whiskey... how I've missed you so...
After what you could call a drunken giggle at my jesting comment, I tipped the bottle towards my mouth, the dark brown liquid searing my throat. It was comforting.. as I had long since been acquainted the sharp burn. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hands, then my hands on my torn and battered jeans. And started to stumble in the direction of home.
Notes
Hey guise! Sorry it's so short... this is just an intro/prolouge type thing... it'll get longer I swear cx
Hope you like it!
Feedback is appreciated.
xoxo
~TBW
Continue where you left off, please?
7/15/14