Filthy Paradise

"I Could Eat."

I thought this story was going have more comments and votes, guess I except a little too much huh? 

Sorry guys, I meant to have this posted by now, but this Monday, the 15th was the 2 year anniversary of my dad's death. So, my apologies for the late chappie. It's just been rough this week for me.

Also sorry that this chapter my be dark and depressing. It may be a trigger to some of you.  It's only a short paragraph, but If  you have those urges while reading that paragraph , please don't read any further into that paragraph. I'm not going to pressure you into reading it if you feel unsafe with yourself. If you need to talk with someone, I'm always listening. I will listen to you. Sometimes all anyone wants is for someone to listen, even if it's a complete stranger. I will be that complete stranger for you. 

Enjoy guys!

Sugar's Pov

Trudging towards the bathroom, I do my morning routine, which involves showering, my daily piss, and brushing my teeth. Twisting the knob so the water can get warm before I step in and wash yesterday's mess from my skin.  I peel off my sweaty pjs as I toss them into the hamper. I had another nightmare. This time Dally actually hit me, he full on punched me, he then turned into one of those filthy Soc's. My body unconsciously shivers at the thought of Dal's large, rough hand taking a swing at my face. I rub at my cheek with my hand, trying to relieve some of the imaginary throbbing.

Finally hopping into the shower, I wash my body and hair. As my emotions take flight, my head bangs against the wall as the tears rush down my cheeks. The water pounds on my back as I feel it go cold. I don't bother stepping out and getting dressed. I let the frigid liquid chill my entire body. The emotions flood down my cheeks as I sob. Finally find the strength I turn the knob that seizes the poor water flow. Grabbing the towel from the rack I wrap it around my shaking body. Slowly getting out with the towel wrapped around me with my hair hanging down my back, dropping droplets everywhere.

Removing the slight fog from the mirror, I stare at myself in the mirror. Dark eyes with visible bags, thinned out cheekbones showing, wet lips from the water pouring on them. Sighing, I lean over the sink and gather my hair in my trembling hands and wring my hair out. After wringing it a couple times, I flick it over my shoulder and proceed to get dressed. Fiddling with the button of my jeans, I realize how they don't fit as well as they did. I've lose weight. Feeling Pony's dark shirt with the sleeves cut off fall onto my  thinned body. I can't believe I didn't notice my major weight loss. Taking off Pony's shirt and just slipping on the old plaid of Soda's. I fasten the buttons quickly with quivering fingers.

Rushing out of the bathroom while I rack my fingers through my long hair, trying to rid if of the horrible knots. Stepping out into the living room I notice nobody's here yet. Is anybody even up? Shrugging my shoulders, not really caring. Just means nobody's gonna question me. Flopping onto the couch, I dig through the sofa in hopes of one of them leaving there pack of cigs behind. My hand feels a box of kools as a smile forms on my lips.

My hand goes to the pocket of my jeans and grips my lighter. Grasping it in my fingers as I pull it out and light it up. Inhaling the smoke, I feel my worries and cares melt away. The thing about smoking these is that they're addicting. Everyone has there addictions; mine happens to be smoking cigarette after cigarette. It always could be worse. I could love the way sharp objects run across my skin in quick motions. I could love the way my fingers shove themselves down my throat as I feel the burn of the vomit traveling back up. But I don't love any of those things. They're sad things, so sad things to exist. 

Taking a puff as I hear laughter travel it's way to my ears. It's coming from outside, it's the gang. My eyes wonder to the clock on the wall, noon. They're a little late, there's usually someone always here. The door opens and the laughter is louder, it shuts with a loud bang. I jump dropping the weed onto my lap. Quickly grabbing it and patting the small ashes so my pants don't light on fire.