Reasons To Live - Charlie Grayson

Chapter 1

Who is God? We're raised to believe that he is our lord and savior, someone who created us and placed us in this hell that we survive in day by day. He is supposed to be this loving father who is forgiving of all of our sins and accepts us for who we are, although it seems that Christians are the most judgmental of them all, they shame the homosexuals, slut-shame, look down upon others who don't follow their shit religion, and not to mention they're hypocritical and arrogant. Sorry, maybe i'm being too harsh considering not all Christians are assholes with bibles glued to their sides, more concerning my mother. They say there's no bond like a mother and her son unfortunately that's not my case, unlike most mothers mines spends her time either shooting up in her room or deeply infatuated with the words in the bible, once upon a time my mother was a good mother, not that she's bad now just too involved with her daily euphoria to be around. One things for sure the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. While my mom spent endless hours on her knees both spiritually and submissively I grew this obsession with death. My death to be specific, We all have our fears whether it's of bugs, clowns, water, or even people mines happens to be death or more so what happens after I die, trust me there's nothing more exciting to me than taking a .22 caliber to the head and just ending it all except one little thing i'm absolutely terrified of what happens after I die. Do I roam the heavens with our so called God or do I suffer in the burning pits of hell where I reconcile with all my sins? As the Christians believe, maybe i'll be reborn, or as I fear nothing happens, that's it. Everything you ever were, ever believed in gone, You lay in your casket 6 feet below everyone who just might miss you but like anyone else would eventually move on with their lives and Charlie Grayson will be nothing more but a sad memory, a suicide. 

I laid down in my bed , I could already hear my mother playing her spiritual music "Oh. Fuck, me"  I hated it. I looked around my simple bedroom; a bed, a dresser, a small flat screen on my computer desk and a small closet that held not that many clothing items. There were no posters, pictures of trips with friends or family, nothing that shows my individuality or screams Charlie Grayson's room, I heard the shower water turn on and knew immediately it was Megan my older bitch sister blasting her crappy party house music in the bathroom, better than spirituals I suppose , now let's talk about Megan Grayson, Megan used to be a prude, her father a pastor at our former church married my mom and here she came a little part of the package, she obeyed the rules, kept neat and tidy at all times, dressed in her ankle long skirts, everything with her was "yes, father" and "no, father". I pitied her, envied her as well she was so oblivious to life's bullshit and had so much faith, almost like a child. Poor Megan became of age and was smacked with the realization of the world when daddy popped her cherry. Not that I don't feel bad for the fallen Angel but it definitely destroyed her in a couple of ways, there's no telling how many guys have been up that skirt I don't judge her though, everyone is pretty fucked up in their own way. Megan is beautiful from the way her hair falls to her waist to the way her smile brightens a room, she has deep green eyes that tell you a sad story of how her birth mother died way beyond her memory of Leukemia, the tale of when her father lost it and outside of the church walls he was a drunk, a shattered drunk, a very lonely drunk. The thing is Megan knew she was beautiful, she knew she had the appearance of a goddess and she used it to her advantage, for money, clothes, the latest electronic devices, drugs, anything she wanted really. I can't say it's easy watching my sister sell her body for beneficial things, fuck that it's hell to watch, sometimes I can hear it from her room and even well after the lucky guy of the night leaves I still can't sleep. I think of ways to save her and my mom, to give them the life they deserved.

I remain in bed mentally exhausted. 1 more hour and and I need to prepare myself to walk into the door of the most depressing building ever created, school. walking into school is like committing suicide 5 days a week, 8 hours per day and remaining alive, between the asshole teachers; ignorant, gossiping, self absorbed pricks I have to share a class with on a day to day basis and not to forget the garbage they decided to label as lunch there's one reason I get up everyday, on time at that to go, Winter Campbell. Yes, I know pretty cliche to go to  school for a girl, more embarrassingly a girl who doesn't even know who you are and could care less even if she did. Winter was the kind of girl you go through hell and back for also the kind of girl you wouldn't mind watching in a pornography doing a nasty trick or two. She had olive skin , maybe a shade or two lighter, dark brown freckles dancing underneath her eyes across the bridge of her nose, her hair was beautiful and dark, her shiny locks were silky and hung to her not to mention very big bottom and smelled like green apples, no i'm not some creep that secretly sniffs their crushes hair but one day I was walking down the hall dreading my next class when I was smacked by what felt like a pile of feathers and smelled like heaven, Winter's hair. Never appreciated something so much, I think I almost believed in god that day. Just imagining the way her breast bounced when she giggled or jogged up the steps had created a mountain in my shorts, I looked at the time, looked down at my mildly impressive mountain and said "we've got 10 minutes buddy" and went into heaven as I reached down and released my penis from the painful restriction, it stood at full alert as I gripped it with my right hand , stroking slowly imagining what Winter's nipples would look like underneath her famous cashmere sweaters, I imagined those gorgeous breast jiggling in my face and lost it and just as I was ready to erupt all over her gorgeous face smiling at me, pleading for it..

"What the fuck" Megan was standing in my doorway , mouth hung open, with a smile forming trying not to laugh, I still had my hand wrapped around it , grabbing my pillow to hide it, balls aching from the biggest case of blueballs I've ever had "get the fuck out, Megan" I refused to look at her, I mean how could I? she just witnessed me pleasuring myself moaning Winter's name, she's never gonna let me forget this one, I just knew it. Megan burst out laughing "Be ready in 15 minutes pig" she snorted as she walked out, I was so consumed with my feelings of embarrassment and anger I shouted words to her I instantly regretted and I heard her fall silent "I don't know what's so funny about a dick , not like it's not one of the many you've seen in your very short lifetime" exaggerating the words many and very. It was silent for awhile, it became awkward "Just be ready, okay?" her tone went somber.  I'm so sorry Megan..

Megan stormed out of the house, she usually did that in the morning after walking in on our mom in the middle of her daily trips as I informed you about earlier. Me, I was used to it; it was just as normal as walking into the kitchen and seeing your mom preparing breakfast, she was leaned over, eyes closed, mouth open, just rocking back and forth, lightly scratching her arm. I walked in her room and kissed her on the cheek , too high to notice she continued rocking. Her spirituals were still blasting in the living room. I love you mama , I don't remember the last time I told my mother I love her but I show her all the time , If one day she overdoses and I find her sprawled out against the floor in a pile of vomit and piss she will die knowing that I loved her, I want her to know that I do, In this world she has none other than mines as she's abruptly losing Megan's.