INEVITABLE ADDICTION

Chapter One

Blake glanced around his apartment. A black plaid sofa sat at the far end of the milky white painted wall with a single light casting incandescent glow on the black-painted ceiling. A worn out bean bag chair, a relic of the eighties, was perfectly placed in the shadowy corner of the room.
Taking a deep sigh, he stared at the rich brown door that his fingers hadn't touched in weeks

'I should perhaps step out'

His muscle throat constricted with pain and he repeatedly swallowed hard with his eyes closed as he pulled himself out of the slightly sagged black leather couch.

He edged over to the door and tightly engulfed the silvery door knob but hesitated from opening the door as a feeling that felt like red hot coal burnt against his skin.

Turning the knob had turned to be quite a hard task to him than he thought, A task that made him frown at his own thoughts of wanting to step out.

He slowly but attentively took his hand away from the knob as a throbbing headache slowly developed beneath his temples. His throat was burning up with dryness and his lungs were yearning to be filled with smoke, cigarette smoke.

He dug his pockets and got the cigarette out, took a hit from it and inhaled the smoke, letting it sink into his lungs, wishing that it would wash the inevitable thoughts that had now filled his mind away.

The taste of smoke in his mouth leaved a sour sting on his throat reminding him of how dry it was.

He exhaled and stared at the ring shaped smoke that was slowly fading into the thin barren air. At the back of his head the two voices that had taken refuge in it were still debating on whether stepping out was any better than staying indoors.

He flicked the strand of hair that was covering his left eye and flickered the half burnt cigarette's ash on the trestle table that was placed at the middle of the house as he still fumbled with his thoughts. The thoughts that were now devouring his mind

'or maybe I should get myself a cup of coffee. There is nothing better to do in the house anyway,' His thought trailed off; The conclusion inescapable

The white walls that was stood around him, staring at his confused figure, showed no sign of anything connecting to his life. No framed photos, or any sort of decor placed on the wall, making the house feel a little more empty.

Finally working up enough courage, he pulled a black hoodie over his head and reached for the doorknob; its heat had now been replaced with a numbing cold.

The bright streaks of light swiftly flowed into his eyes almost blinding him from finding the small stair case that connected the door to the chirped out pavement.

This was one of the reasons as to why staying indoors was a perfect choice to his social life.

The silvery light from the moon illuminated his neighbourhood casting a soft glow on the surface of the buildings that were made of tan stucco and wood slat, architect around the grassy surface.

His face hardened with concentration as he made his way out into the lonely street.

The cold wind rushing against his skin nipped deeper into his bare wrist forcing him to shove his hands deep into his pockets as visible clouds of his exhaled hot breath invaded the cold air.