Till the Universe tears us apart

casual mornings (Joey)

Fuck. What the hell did I take. My eyes flutter open and I jolt up. Immediately I fall back into my bed again. My eyebrows furrow. The whole damn attic smells like the hell of a weed party. After convincing myself I finally open my eyes again and they start darting around the sun lightened attic. The air definitely looks smoky. My hand rubs over my face until finding a white bandaid clued to my cheek. Why the hell do I have this? And what the fuck happened last night?! After what feels like forever I finally push the blanket off myself and freeze. I still wear those dark blue baggy jeans. Guess I didn't even change. So why should I now? I roll off the bed and glance around the mess- which I politely call my room. "Fuckin' hell" I mutter while halfway realising how raspy my voice sounds. Where's my damn phone when I need it?! Well- it was in my back pocket, which I finally found out. Hesitantly I look at the time. Fuck. This isn't good. 11 am. Mr Bronson is gonna kill me. I grab my black backpack swinging it over one shoulder while it clinks- no wonder with all those pins and keychains. 'Fuck the system'. God how many times have my teachers told me to get this pin off. and how many times did I listen? Right. Never. Right as I want to bolt through the door I feel my foot touching an empty glass bottle. Great. I wasn't even sober enough to get the bottles away from my door. The next thing I feel is me laying on the bottom of the stairs with my damn ginger cat Cody looking at me like that. "Fuck you, Cody. Stop staring!" I snap at him without even realising I did. I convinced myself to get up, probably looking like a corpse. I run down the other stairs focusing on not stumbling again. In the hallway I finally grab those dirty old black vans and run off. It doesn't take me long to arrive in class. And right as I burst through the door Mr Bronson clears his throat. "Joey Nick Ryder. What is it today? You helped a granny over the street? You searched your goldfish in your jeans? Or it's exactly why you reek of alcohol and weed?" I shrug nonchalantly. "Well-" "no. The principal is waiting" Mr Bronson interrupts me. I groan and leave the classroom leaving the snickering classmates behind.
Yes. And that's me. Joey motherfucking Ryder. probably Mazomanie's most fucked up teenager.