Chapter 1

the start of a film-noir novel I want to write concerning a washed up detective

 

3:24 AM

 

The sour taste of that night returns to the back of his throat, like a liquid guilt that toys with your stomach. In a retched jolt he wake up spewing J.D. and partially digested Combos into the corner of the room.

 

Oh God…

 

Another round comes as he can barely comprehend what is happening. His throat burns, head gets is cloudy, and now his damn stomach hurts from this retched spasm in my gut.

 

Why…

 

Dear God what have I done? Where is my mom? All I want is my mom. Oh jeez, this s**t smells so bad. Why do I do this to myself? I need to get to the bathroom. Just get out of the bed man, c’mon!

 

Where the hell is the bathroom? Where the f**k am I?

 

Looking around everything is dark and unfamiliar. The walls are white washed with dust and filth. My feet land on a hardwood floor cold as the air. Not one damn piece of furniture in the entire room but a mattress and a dirty sheet stained with beer and with God knows what else that I apparently found as a comfortable resting place.

 

The light of a bright amber neon light just outside the single, drafty window in the far corner of the room provides a little guidance to my vertigo as I force myself off the bed. Stumbling around the edge of the mattress I manage to dodge the shadows in the room created by torn drapes swinging on either side of the window.

 

What the hell is that smell? Is that me or this room? F**k me!

 

The outline of a door comes into focus as I slide along the wall towards it. Pushing against the top of it I can’t seem to get it to budge. I wildly grasp for a handle that doesn’t seem to be there. My fingers catch a small hole where a knob use to be. I pull desperately towards me and the door swings at me as I crash to the floor.

 

Christ! Get it together man.

Another cool breeze enters the room as I walk into the hallway. Only the light behind me seems to be any help. I laugh to myself thinking an electric bill of some sort needs to be paid once in a while. The chuckling just brings that bitter acid back to the rear of my throat causing me to cringe.

 

S**t.

 

Down the hall a low hum faintly seeps past a door just slightly ajar. Light peaks past the edges barely reaching my eyes. I couldn’t tell if it was the smell of my breath or that room but I knew it could be that bathroom.

 

I stumble down the hall not knowing whether to try and be quiet or just not give a s**t.

 

Where is everyone? Should there be anyone?

 

I grab the door swing it open.

 

Thank God.

 

I fall to my knees as I begin to pray to the porcelain god. As my hands grasp each side avoiding the s**t stained edges, my head swirls around like the water I puke into. The only thing I can think of is how the hell did I get to be here. What happened?

 

3:27 AM

Reviews

[Yaooooooo]

Very well writen.
Keep up the good work and feel free to send me a request.
One!