Addiction

chapter one

I APOLOGIZE FOR ANY GRAMMATICAL ERRORS OR MISPELT WORDS
I WILL COME BACK AND FIX THEM UP

UPDATES ARE ONCE A WEEK

BEAUTIFUL SOULS (-:

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*STAY GROOVY*

BLAKE'S POV:

"What the fuck is your problem!" I bellow at my drunk, hopeless father.

"Y-You Blakee, you are my problem, your mother left us because of you!" the idoit slurs harshly back.

Its one in the morning, I've literally got to get out of here.

As I stand up from against the wall; I begin make my way outside to get out of this place I once called home.

I grab my bag and forward out. The door was quickly shut behind me due to a large and quite heavy, expensive sounding object been thrown at it. A stray tear leaked down my face and I wipe it away.

No Blake. No. You're stronger than this, man up.

"Aw Blakey look at you all spunked up for your first day of year 6," my mother cooes as she pinches my cheeks, making me go a deep shade of pink.

"Mum stop! People are walking past!" I exclaim as my hands playfully swat her away.

"Those people walking past are girls B, one day youll have one all to yourself and you'll we swooning over her. You'll kiss her, fight will her ,bicker, joke and hopefully marry her, all just because... you love her," she gazes.

"I don't kiss girls mum," I independently smirk, hands on my hips. She just furrows her left eye and glares.

"Wha... whaat?" I stutter innocently, intimidated by her features. She quickly butts in;

"No 'whats' B, I'm telling you. You'll be addicted to her champ. So much it will actually hurt and frustrate the hell out of you... but hey its all the name of love right?"

"But mum, why doesn't dad do that with you?" I ask confused.

"The best way to apprieciate something is to be without it for a while." She softly speaks.

I received a hug, a kiss, then an emotional goodbye.

I never understood why the teary fair well until that afternoon. The house was empty of my mothers belongings... aswell as the happiness and serenity along with it.

.

.

My thoughts have consumed me for a good couple of hours now.

What if? What if? What if?

Its approaching early three and here I am; helpless, somber and frustrated sitting on the side of the road with a cigarette alight and a bottle of straight vodka floating in my hand.

I carelessly take swigs from the bottle and I start to feel a warm buzzing sensation within me and a deep burn at the back of my throat but all the dramas and worries that have been weighing me down since I was eleven begin to evaporate.

Temporarily but.

Shut up.

Looking at my wrist, it magically notifies me that it's five in the morning.

"Fuck, school!"

I trudge to the front door and quietly make my way through.

Oh so it was a chair he attempted to throw at the me... idiot.

I tiptoe to my room and spot my father curled up around the end of my bed as I enter. I grab my denim jacket and black chinos and make a run for it... well not a run, more like a blurred march.

Shut up Blake your still drunk.

.

.

IT WILL GET BETTER!

STAY GROOVY *
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