There's a thunderstorm today.
I'm walking outside, letting the pounding water drops soak me. I know I shouldn't be outside, but my brain isn't in the correct state to make decisions and only goes by instinct.
I'm walking higher on my toes, though I can hardly walk at all. My arms swing highly by my sides; one hand holding a bottle of liquor, and the other's palm facing the sky, as if the raindrops are snowflakes. My vision is blurry, but I'm not sure if it's tears or because of the alcohol. My hazel-colored hair is sticking to my pale face, but it doesn't seem to bother me. I keep giggling to myself for no apparent reason and hiccuping. My limbs are weak and wobbly, but I keep moving them like they don't.
Thunder echoes through the sky and through the streets. I lift the bottle to my lips and gulp a mouthful down. I shut my eyes close, and let the fire slide down my throat. I forcefully shake my head and begin to laugh with my head back, looking at the dark sky.
I vaguely hear a pair of footsteps behind me. I twirl around almost closing my footing with a grin on my lips. But my grin dissolves into a scowl once I meet those familiar pair of blue eyes and blond hair under a red umbrella.
"Tippy?"
