Alley Mutts. |Brance|

Away with the pain.

Vance needed a beer. Actually he needed five. Shit he just needed as many as he could stomach at this point.
He stepped outside and leaned against the red brick building. He looked around and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter before putting it between his pale lips. He allowed himself to breathe in the smoke, and it helped. He felt the weight lift off his shoulders as he exhaled slowly.

He finished the cigarette and threw it down onto the cement before he  crushed it with the toe of his boot.
He hopped into his truck and just sat for a second. He decided to go to Grab'n'go. He knew the employees were afraid of him and would give it to him, so that where he went.

He was right. The owner just let him take it and kept silent through the interaction.

Vance opened the glass bottle as he sat in his truck. He took a swig and winced a little at the taste. It was gross, but he didn't care as long as it took away some of the pain. He'd do just about anything to numb the pain.

He drove to the rickety old trailer house to see that his father wasn't home. Mom

He put on one of his favorite tapes, Last Rites by Megadeth. It wasn't long, only three songs, but it was a good one. His fingers followed the same way they would as if he was playing. He smiled and took a big drink out of his beer. He decided to smoke in a moment of tipsy soon-to-be-regret.

He rolled the blunt and lit it carefully. He breathed in the smoke and didn't cough at all.

After a while his room was filled with smoke and the stench of cannabis. His eyes were slightly red and his brain was fuzzy, he couldn't feel a thing.

He felt on top of the world as he plopped down roughly on his dirty old mattress. It creaked beneath his weight but he hardly heard it. He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to wonder.

His mind didn't really focus. It never really did anyways, it always shifted to quickly for his to actually focus on anything. It was frustrating.

When he woke up the next morning the regret hit him like a fucking bus. His head hurt and his throat was dry. His hair was messier than usual and the smell of his activities from the night before had soaked into his clothes.

He sat up and found the small white bottle in his bathroom labeled 'Advil' in big red letters and took three pills dry.

He turned on the water and took of his clothes. He threw them into the corner and stepped into the warm shower, fuck it felt good on his cold skin. He sighed in content and closed his eyes.

He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist as he walked past the foggy mirror he ran his hand over it, clearing the condensation away. He looked over his face, then down his neck and shoulders, then down to his torso. He admired ever scar and imperfection, looking over them carefully.
He didn't know where they were all from. He guessed most of them were from his dad. He shrugged and continued on his way to his room.

He changed into his usual outfit. A black band t-shirt that had been cut, light blue jean with holes and his black boots. He put of his necklace that he always wore, the one his mother had given him.

He sighed and tan a hand through his hair. He was exhausted. Now that everything had worn off and left him with the pounding headache.

He just wanted the pain to go away. He took a swig from a bottle sitting on his dresser. It was warm and gross but it was beer none the less. He chugged the rest, and opened a can and chugging it before grabbing his keys off the couch.
Time to return back to the hellhole.

Sorry it short. I'm tired and holding on by a thread mentally but it's cool. Thanks for reading and I love writing this so yeah.        -author