that one girl.

chapter 1

Welcome to the wonderful tales of my life sucks. 10 seconds on the clock, 10 seconds turns to 5, the crowd begins to cheer for the team, 60 to 32.  I smile, but a real one this time, basketball was always my thing. it was me and dad's thing-before he passed.
Dad passed when I was 4, mom and him got into a fight one night and he left for a drive. I knew he wasn't just leaving for good- whenever mom and dad got into fights he would usually go for a drive to cool down. When I woke up the next morning mom told me he was hit by a drunk driver and died.I had cried most of that day.
The drive home was a little quiet, hey mom guess what. “What do you want, Charlie?” she spoke tiredly. -we won,i had said reluctantly, “ i don't care charlie, i'm tired”.
I shut the door behind me and slid down the wall with tears streaming down. I miss dad, I mumble.  I try to stand up but it feels like I have 53 pound weights on my shoulders. I hear a scratching sound, its gus.
I feel my feet drag across the floor, towards the cage, he steps to my hand and onto my shoulder as usual.glass shatters outside my door, i hear my mother scream but she was obviously drunk. I roll my eyes in annoyance. I peek out my door way to see if she actually needs help. I watch as she stumbles over to the couch and falls flat on face into the pillow. I light my cigarette while I walk out towards the messy hallway, holes in the wall glass on the floor, I wake mom up as the glass clashes off of the dust pan into the garbage bin. I listen to the sizle of the chicken on the iron skillet, my mind begins to wander off, i think about my dad, all the times we had together, he taught me how to shoot a basketball, how to mind my manners, took me out on walks when mom was a little too drunk. I hear the pills click clacking out of the bottle into my mothers hand. I already knew she would ask me to slide her the bottle, it was almost like a tradition, everynight before dinner she would pop a few pills and wash it down with alcohol. I plate her food first then mine, i sit on my bedroom floor, i start to realize i wasn't even hungry. 
I push it aside- seconds go by, seconds turn into minutes- minutes turn into hours. I start to drown and spiral into my thoughts, once i finally wake up from this trance, i realize i've been sitting here staring at a wall for hours, not moving,not eating,not drinking and i don't even know if i blinked at all.
I close the curtain behind me, I sit down against the shower wall while tears filling my eyes. I feel the hot water falling from above my crown down into the red lines on my thighs, i can't help but feel like i deserve the pain, i turn the handle, now the water is scorching and instead of it feeling like bee stings, it feels like a thousand hot swords stabbing me repeatedly. I sat there till the water ran cold.
I gaze in the mirror- I realized I couldn't find a damn thing I liked about myself. Sad -but true.
I began to focus on the cracks in the looking glass. Each mark had a story of its own. I lay down staring at the celling, just staring, once again. My sadness grew larger and larger and eventually I fell asleep in puddles. I woke up somewhere around 2 am to my mom coming in as wasted usual. I hear a strange man's voice, another one? I think to myself, mom hasnt brought home a guy in a little while now, i started to gain hope for her but now thats out the window. I wish I could say I'm surprised. I fall back into my slumber.

Get out! Get out you thief! The woman with the thin hair shrieks. I bolt out of the store, almost losing the grip of my balance. I fly through the hustle of the New York streets.  I turn down my alley, catching my breath, I start to gaze up to my surroundings, graffiti all around, glass shatterd on the cold -wet concrete. And there's something moldy next to the filthy dumpster. I began to walk, “charlie!” a somewhat excited voice comes from my left. Hey Marvin, I say with a smile. “Good to see ya, how you been kiddo?” My thoughts slow down and I try to figure out if I want to tell the truth. I've seen better days to be honest with you, I replied. Short and sweet, I thought to myself. How about you? Anything new? I asked with genuine curiosity. I didn't care about many things, very little actually. “ Nah, not really. '' I hear footsteps from behind me, its boss. A really intersting trauma response-Boss was your typical drug dealer that everyone mostly respected. At least in my part of the ally- the rest is a blank.
I rise from my bed to the sound of my alarm and the beautiful wind and rain she was playing outside of the window next to my head.