Secret Thoughts.

Chapter 8- Juan

Honestly, I have no clue what's gotten over me. I just felt like I shouldn't do anything with Chrisanna, even though that's possibly the most stupid thing I've ever done when involving a girl, and the fact that I'm suddenly thinking about Paige is just ridículo.  I don't wanna think about Paige at all. I just wanted to fuck around, but I stopped when I smelt alcohol on her breath. She was drinking. I don't mind drinking at all, but I don't necessarily like it when a girls drunk and doing things with me, when I'm not drunk aswell. It's just how I am I guess. Couldn't she just stay sober? I'm lying on my bed wondering what to do. What's the point of living if you have nothing? Mierda.

I need to get drunk, or get high, or something to ease this anger. I get out of bed and go to the back door and get my shoes on, I've got 30 bucks mi'ama made at work and gave it to me. We're poor. We're not people who have a lot of things. We both have small beds, and very little things around the house. We have on small television that's in the shape of a box, a love seat couch, a bit of food to eat, and quite a bit more of stuff, but we haven't got loads of crap like other people do. We can't even afford things we want, never mind the things we lack in the needing department. Mama wants me to make do with what we have. At least, get things we need with the money we do have. Well right now, I need to get high or something.

"Juan, te vas?" Mi'ama asks me.

"Si mi'ama, I am" I replied. "I need some air."

She smiles at me.

"Okay, te amo" she walks away from the back door area.

I pull out some smokes from my mom's work jacket and a lighter of mine I left in my pocket. I step outside in the fresh air and light a cigarette. If mama finds out about this, she might as well sell me out to the gangs to steal shit for them.