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"JORDAN! I HAVE NOWHERE TO GO!" What the hell is happening? "JORDAN!" I yelled again and banged on the door. He ripped the door open and stared at me.

"WHAT?" he bellowed.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" I screamed, "You were chill, and then you just snapped. What is going on!"

"Nothing. I'm fucking fine. I just want to get you away from my apartment and out of my life! I told you, I don't need your help! if you really want to help someone, help yourself!" he yelled and slammed the door once more.

My throat burned as if I'd been screaming for six hours straight. The tears in my eyes blurred my vision as I stumbled numbly down the street. Neon lights from a sign nearby illuminated the street, flashing on and off wally's liquor. I turned on my heel and walked towards the front door, a bell chimed as I walked through the threshold. "Evening." the man behind the counter called.

"H-hey." I choked out through my dry lips. Looking around the store I spotted the hard liquor. Tripping over my own feet I shuffled over to the liquor. I picked up a bottle of cocoanut tequila and a bottle of cherry vodka. "Hopefully this will go good together." I mumbled and staggered to the checkout. Placing the bottles on the counter I pulled out my ID with a shaky hand.

"You okay?" the guy asked before ringing me up. My eyes shot up to meet his,

"Yeah i'm fine just tired." I replied quickly. he nodded before he began scanning the bottles.

"That'll be 53.98. Be careful, man." he said. I grinned quickly and shoved fifty four dollars at him before grabbing my bag.

"Will do." i called and practically ran out the door. i walked quickly down the street to find somewhere to drink until i couldn't remember my own name. turning the corner onto a dirt path i smelled a faint waft of cigarette smoke. i followed it to see where it led me too, and to see if whoever was smoking would want to talk.

eventually i saw the back of his head and watched as his hand went up to this mouth before a cloud of smoke engulfed the air around his head, "smoking is bad for you." i called, immediately cringing as i thought about the last time i said that.

a boy with plugs in his ear lobes, a ring in his nose, and tattoos up both arms faced me, "yeah? so is drinking. and by the looks of it, you're about to do a whole hell of a lot of it." he smirked and took another long drag of his dying cigarette. his heavy Irish accent took me by surprise, as we were sitting in a park just minutes away from the busy streets of Seattle.

i watched as the orange glow lit up his face before slowly going out, leaving a shadow. i sighed, "i'd rather be an alcoholic than have lung cancer." i commented, glancing down at the bottles in my hands and remembering why i bought them in the first place. popping the vodka open, i sat down in the dirt, "besides," i said and took a big swig, the burn not affecting me as much as it would've a year ago, "i'm just trying to forget. what's your reasoning?" i asked.

he stared down at me, "i've excepted that death is inevitable, so i might as well speed up the process." he said before gesturing to my now almost half empty bottle, "may i?" he asked. i nodded and passed it to him. he took a large gulp before handing it back to me, "what exactly are you trying to forget?" he questioned.

i swallowed another mouthful of the burning cherry sensation and let out a slight chuckle, "everything."