Crack Story

Just something random I wrote. Wont continue.

It’s Thursday, November 25^th, 2010.

I can hear the loud a*s families celebrating as I walk along the pavement, not paying attention to where I’m going. My feet are scraping again the cement audibly, reminding me that I have no idea where I am. I left the house and I’m lost. Wonderful. I hope I die. I need to die. I want it to be over. My phone rings, jerking me out of my suicidal thoughts. Taking it out of my pocket, I read the small works thrown across the screen.

‘Gobble, Gobble, B***h’  

 

I laugh bitterly before writing back, ‘Die, you homophobic w***e’

 

---

Night passed, and the sun is now up, shining its loud a*s over the whole f*****g block, blurring my vision. I look around, maybe I can find my way back… I shouldn’t have left. Nothing happened. I’m worthless and stupid…

I need a drink.

 

I’m smashed and I can’t think straight. Time’s going by fast, and I know it’s passed my curfew but I can’t bring myself to care. I’m going to party and forget about all of it. But in the back of mind, it still lingers. Haunting me, making me cringe every time I hear it, see it. They don’t understand.

I’m broken out of my thoughts as some a*****e grinds against me, asking if I ‘wanna get it on’ in what I'm assuming is his parents’ bedroom. “F**k off, d****e” I reply, pushing past him, searching for the bong. I’ll forget what happened… I won’t… remember.

---

 

You know when time passes by so f*****g fast you don’t know what day-what month-what year it is anymore? When your life has passed by without you even noticing? I guess it’s already new years and I made a promise to someone. To someone important. But I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, seeing as he can’t be here. He broke his promise too… Just… not on purpose.

 

The drugs, the sex, the parties. They start to feel like a routine. Greet everyone at the door, get the booze, pass around the bong, yell at the dumbass that spills the water, get trashed, have sex with someone you don’t even know and wake up the next day with a sore a*s and memory loss. That’s my life. Every week, it’s the same.

Believe me; I’m just as surprised as you I don’t have herpes or some s**t.

 

---

“Some things are better left unnoticed, Vlank. You must understand that.”

I woke up to screaming. Loud, gut wrenching, screaming. What a great way to wake up, right? Way f*****g wrong, you piece of s**t. It isn’t fun to wake up to some b***h screaming, a raging hard on and a hangover. Not f*****g nice at all. I looked around the room I was sitting in. The walls were black with red grunge thrown in, in some places. No windows, one door, and no furniture.

F**k. I’m in Hell.

Author's Note

Alright~ So this all started with the text message at the beginning. 'Gobble Gobble, bitch' one of my friends sent me that on Turkey day(aka Thanksgiving) and I laughed my ass off. Also, I was reading some hardcore drug addict book, and those are my absolute FAVORITE and I wanted to write something like it, failed, and ended up with this, 490 word piece of utter shit.
That is all.
/end

Reviews

[WayOath]

Honestly I thought it was quiet sarcastic and brilliant. I can see things very clear through this characters eyes. It's almost as if you are the character. Awesome, pure awesome, how you went off a text, that is so what I do. Just the littlest things can spark a big flame. This dialogue in the characters mind reminds me of someone I know.
Great job, seemingly accurate depiction dood