Addiction

chapter five

BLAKES POV:

I’m awoken by the early morning sun beaming into my eyes, fuck this right off.

I grunt and shield the sun away with my hands.

Almost immediately my mind is quickly ‘refreshed’ from last night’s events; drinking, harper, park, home, shit, dad, flat.

Here I lie curled up in a ball outside my flat door, I’m violently shivering and scolding myself for not having the common sense to stand up and go inside the flat last night.

I had a key as well..

Arghhh. I have a headache.

I check my watch and I see that’s its five-thirty.

Too fucking early. School is out of the question today.

I’m tired and worn; emotionally and physically. Being kicked out of the house has made me think; I have no food, no job and a minimal threshold for anymore drama. And it sucks because the two things I want the most right now has either disappeared or completely pushed me away god dammit. But the worst thing is that it isn’t my fault, so I can’t fix it or do a thing about it. I hate it.

I have no control.

I’m happy with myself in a sense as my hard exterior still stands.

So no one knows.

So everyone sees me as same old Blake.

But I’m also pissed off because as soon as I leave the school grounds and enter 'reality' I turn into a big sook who cries and craves affection off a girl I hardly know.

That’s right, you don’t know her?

But she’s constant.

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Self-thoughts are so consuming. I’ve got to stop, half an hour has already past.

I get up and unlock the door and bring all my bags and belongings in one by one.

The flat is a reasonable size, well it was bigger than my old bedroom so that’s a plus I guess.

The bare cream walls and plain grey carpet are surrounding me, this is absolute shit.

Stop whining, we have talked about this Blake.

My mood suddenly uplifts when the back of the flat holds a secluded area dedicated to a small bench, sink, mini fridge and cupboard.

Food. Yes.

The next couple of hours I find myself setting up my new 'home', it feels great to be out of the house to be honest.

An old bed mum and dad shared was already in here, its big and reminds me of the happy family we ‘used’ to have.

Stop.

Okay.

My clothes go in the cupboard and my band posters are scattered up against the walls. Never again will I do this, its tiring and stupid.

This flat is pretty cool I must admit, I should of moved out here ages ago, if I knew it ever fucking existed. Its really clean, cleaner than it should be and I have a feeling dad must’ve come in here and ‘prepped’ it for my arrival. I have mixed emotions about this.

Around five-thirty I grow hungry and eat my left over chips out of my school bag, I feel so homeless right now.

Potato chips for dinner, woo.

The day was long and boring but the sun finally sets and here I lie on my bed shirtless, looking up at the roof expecting mum and dad to walk on in here and tell me the last six years of my life was a prank, that everything was joke and it’s going to be o okay because I really don’t

know how much longer I can be alone. It’s lonely.

Here comes the part of the night where I start to get angry, upset, sad, confused and frustrated. It’s a routine.

My thoughts dance.

I need someone here with me to tell me they love me, care for me and need me. I want someone to tell me everything’s okay when it’s not so I stop spending my nights awake wondering why and what’s going to happen next. I need someone to believe in me just like I would believe in them, to put up with my shit and sooky behaviour, just because they can. I need to be secure and my lover to be constant.

I want her…

I need her...

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