January, 1997-Detroit Michigan.
Shardonay's lifelong bestfriend, Celisse which who had became her roommate could be a burden at times due to drug habits, her boyfriend's abusive behavior, and rent struggles. Shardonay opens up to Marshall, a new re...
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My eyes shuttered open as drool leaked down my face onto... the toilet seat?! What the fuck, yo?!
I immediately picked my head up away from it, my face cringing in disgust as I wipe the drool from my cheek.
Looking into the toilet, I see vomit all inside of it—Once again making my face cringe in disgust...
man, what the hell was I up to last night? I thought to myself as I flushed the toilet trying to stand up from the ground. My head feeling like someones hitting it over and over again wit a damn sludge hammer and my mouth tastin foul as shit.
My brain works and works to try and think about what happened last night...
...Looking down, I see the vomit on my sneakers.
Again??... I got puke on my sneaks again???!
I grumbled from the thought of having to wash them again.... That one girl threw up on my shoes last week...
I ain't really seen her around this past week though.
I seen her crazy ass friend though—Ay, dawg... she got some serious problems.
And I won't lie...I feel bad for the girl... That dude that slapped the shit outta here almost right outside of my door—
The memory of that makes me remember what the fuck happened last night...
Shit.....
Fuck, yo...
I shake my head in disbelief of myself... Goddamnit.
I need to call Kim...I really do.
Still hungover as shit, it's hard to even walk. I feel so sluggish and weak and drowsy. Everytime I move, my body aches.
... I ain't ever been hungover like this.
As I step, I hear a wet...squishy? Sound beneath me.
Lookin down, I realized I stepped in my own fuckin' vomit.
Why is everything going wrong for me? This shit is fuckin' gross.
I took my shoes off, putting them in the bathroom so I can clean them later. Just after that, I clean up the vomit on the floor to the best of my ability, even with my head pounding—I still got the job done pretty well.
Using whatever cleaning supplies Kim had put in the cabinet below the sink when she used to live wit me.
Aight... now I gotta call her.
I drag my way to the telephone on the wall, taking a fat ass breath of air in exhaustion. Getting ready for Kim to tell me the fuck off if she answers this phone... all I wanna do is apologize though.
