Put your story text here...Sickened...
The only word I can thing of right now, As I sit here in the dusk, facing another
day. A Day where I'm forced to face the murkiness and darkness of my
surroundings, surroundings I am soon to lose If I don't find a solution.
I have enough cash left for a bottle of cheap but effective wine, or a pouch of
my faveourite tobacco, such a choice....
Sickened, i must have opted for the quick and cheap euphoria of the drink..a
side i swore I'd never see, and yet, it must have happened...for now here I lie...in
my bed..an empty botle of grog by my side, accompanied by a full
ashtray.....wait, a full ashtray....how did i afford both?
Scanning the depths of my pockets in confusion I feel the wet warmth....
Slowly pulling my hands from my pockets I get my first glipse of the blood.
I'm not in pain..it isn't mine, but it is everywhere...on the bottle, on every
stinking stubbed out ciggarette butt, my arms, face, lips......
My mouth tastes of copper, even the cheapest wine doesn't have that side
effect...
Stumbling over to the mirror to survey any superficial damage I may have taken,
I see my true face..I'm laughing, painted like a clown....Him......He broke out.......
I collapse to the floor, covering my ears, trying desperatley to drown out the
laughter, the sound of 'let's do the twist by chubby checker' that suddenly
started pounding in my head..
It Fails, I slip into a perpetually dark place as he takes over......
