[TW !! CONTAINS ALCOHOLISM]
Thomas Simons. A 19 year old burnt out star stuck in a decrepit house with a always-drunk mom and a dad who spends all his time gambling his savings down the drain. Tommy would also do drugs sometimes, that would only be when he snuck out, sure his parents got mad but they were just being assholes.
Tommy's dad always says one day when he wins big he'll take them somewhere big, or.. at least somewhere that isn't Nottingham. Tommy always thought that the dirty streets added a sense of "style". His father said it just looked like a raccoons home.
Tommy didn't care about what his father had to say, about what his father thought, nor his mother. Ever since they picked up their "hobbies" Tommys life went downhill.
He had to work 3 jobs just to get some shit food on the table and for them not to lose their house
His life was a circle as he saw it. Wake up at 5am sharp, shower, eat, work, work again, work for the third time, eat, sleep. Every day, all day, for the rest of his life.
Tommy and his dad got into fights. Lots of them, usually about Tommy's dad taking Tommy's hard earn money and using it for gambling, his dad would always say "I'm just having fun" usually it would end with his dad just walking off, something though.. his dad fought. He fought hard.
That's how Tommy got most his scars, over time he just.. stopped caring. He stopped any form of care for his parents, for money, he only cared for himself and his mom didn't care
She was always out on the dirty streets hooking up with random men who seemed wealthy. She was never home.
To be honest tommy liked being alone. It gave him time to breathe air that wasn't filled with alcohol and whatever other B.O his parents smelt of.
I guess one day everyone has a breaking point. And today was Tommy's. He couldn't take it. His life stressed him out and he was pretty sure if he stayed in that fucking house one more second he would end up as road kill.
He grabbed all the money in the house, even the one his dad had recently won, it served him right that fucker.
Tommy grabbed his helmet and packed his bag with a few clothes, general necessities, his headphones, charger, phone, and he took a small raggedy plushie of a rat with him.
As a kid he loved rats, that's why his mom always bought him rat themed stuff. Before he left he wrote his mom a letter that read as follows:
"Hey mom. I don't know when you'll get this letter. I don't even know if you will. But I'm leaving, I can't take this anymore. I hope you understand. Also, I hope you find someone new to settle with and you stop drinking, I love you but sometimes it's hard to love you. Thanks for the plushies.
Sincerely, Thomas, your son.<3"
He thought that letter summed it up, he thought that he didn't owe much explanation to his mom so that letter should be good.
He got some food and drinks in a small plastic bag and went on his bike, he rode off on the streets with ease.
Biking was his favorite thing, something about the wind hitting his face making his hair fly around made him happy, made him feel calm.
Sure the streets looked gross and littered on but he didn't care. The air was fresh.
Tommy always felt a lump in this throat. Like a clogged piece of food waiting to pass by. But when Tommy finally left his house he found that lump had finally passed through his throat, finally he was free from the chains that tied him to that house. Finally he could be himself.. and finally,, he could live the life he wanted. The life he worked so are for.
He would occasionally ask for directions, finally he pulled up his bike to a train station, he went up to a random person and asked
"Oi! Wanna buy my bike? 28 bucks is all I ask. Please, I have no use for it and it's in new condition." Tommy told that to about 6 people before they finally gave him the money, he gave them the bike and ran off to catch his train, he was happy he gained another 28 dollars, he would probably buy his food for the day with that.
He also needed to find a job.. and fast, before it was time for him to pay his phone bill.
He put his headphones on and started up Alex G, he found that his music helped him just go numb. Sorta like shit television. It helps the mind go numb.
Tommy found that therapeutic. Maybe it was just him. Or maybe he wasn't all that crazy.
Whatever the case was he didn't care.
It felt like minutes flew faster then the wind, and soon enough the train slowed and stopped on the tracks. Tommy soon got off and as he stepped out, over and over by rio Romeo started, it was perfect for Tommy. Absolutely perfect.
Now he had a problem.. he didn't know anyone in brighton.. he was so fucked but he didn't care in that second. His stomach felt like it was going to throw up if he didn't get something to eat, and fast.
He went to the nearest store to buy some food, he realized he only had about 325 pounds due to saving half of his pay an hour (£5) for a few weeks , so he didn't have to worry.. yet.
That would last him two weeks considering the prices these days. He hated that thought,, god he needed a job.
Tommy sorta started to regret leaving.. maybe he should just go back to his shitty life. No. No no he just got free there's no way he's going back. If starvation is how he dies then so be it, but he honestly couldn't care. He would die even quicker if he went back to that shit hole.
His head was spinning and his stomach growled in anger. He ran as quick as he could off to the store.
Ring
It echoed throughout the store, heads turned to Tommy who was leaning on the door frame panting and who looked awfully pale. soon the heads turned back to what they were doing and Tommy went and picked up some chips, a drink, and a sandwich. Total came to £19.6,
he paid and left.. off to a shaggy motel that was run down, Tommy couldn't walk farther to a better one so he settled and bought a room for one. He sat on the bed and sighed as he turned on his laptop and started looking for jobs.
he needed an apartment, he couldn't bare how disgusting the motel was it genuinely made him so sick.
1172 words.
Hope this was a good read, I'll try to make it better every chapter
