Hopeless

Wrong

It's eleven on a Wednesday.

Which means pain time.

See five is an annoying time because Jamie has to leave. Then four is the reassuring time because he will be home soon. But eleven, the middle of it, is the horrible time where he has nothing to distract himself. It's not like he has friends to just call up. Plus his phone is completely worthless after a while. So eleven... The time he must remember everything he did wrong once again. The time he was most likely to do something horrible. Weekdays are better than weekends, Jamie can typically get off earlier on those days. When did he become so dependent on another person? Jesus, was he always this pathetic?

Yeah, this mind wasn't exactly the best to live with. Constant fighting with himself over what is and isn't. Who he should be and who he is. Screaming is the only thing that fits when he gets in this mindset. People don't like people like Kevin. They always think down on him for "acting" out. He just wasn't right for humanity.

He sighed and turned over on his back. This afternoon he was placed on the couch looking towards the ceiling in boredom. His arms spilled over the cushions, legs sprawled over the arm across from his head. This was a typical day for him. See, eleven isn't just a boring time. It's a triggering time. The clock strikes and all he knows is the past. Eleven, eleven, eleven. 9/11, the 11th of September 1888 death of important historical figures, ancient kingdom dies nine years later, German troops die, wars start, humanity exists. And to top it all off four years ago 11/11/2011 he started using. Since 2013 he's been clean, started a rehab process a while ago. He'd been procrastinating telling Jamie, it never seemed to be the right time to bring anything up. Jamie's mental health didn't need more to bear anyway. Kevin wasn't a great influence on Jamie, he could tell. But what did he care? There was a large part in him that didn't want Jamie to leave or for him to leave either. He was poison, hungry, needy poison, what could he do but eat away at the soul he latched onto.

Oof

All Jamie's poetry was infecting him. That makes sense, he spends a lot of time reading some of the books Jamie collected, this was still his house. Kevin was kinda intruding on his space. But, he never really said anything, soo.

Kevin checked his phone again, 11:10. The longer this hour dragged on the worse he ends up. He could just text Jamie, but what's the point anyway? He's worse off trying to talk in this state, and Jamie has work anyway.

11:11. He sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. He's clean, right? What does that mean though? Clean is a term for no longer using. Or doing something wrong. So he just doesn't have to use?

He could work with that.

So, he jumped up and ran towards the door, throwing on his signature brown jacket before running out to his car and driving off away from town. He decided to let the car take him wherever. There really was no other way.

And hey, you can't really judge that it took him to a seven eleven far from town. Neither can you say it's his fault he walked in and maybe only slightly glanced at the cigarettes? Maybe bought a pack? Yeah... Maybe.

Back inside his car, he rummaged in the pocket in the middle of the car and found an old metal lighter. He knew it would still have fuel in it, why he kept it he wasn't sure. Of course, he did expect himself to start smoking again. It wasn't like this kind of drug was illegal. So what did he do? Opened the pack right up and greedily stuck the sickness in his mouth. Actually, he started smoking at first because it looked cool. Empire City only taught him to be worse than he should've been. The kids he liked to associate with were not the nice kind. Once he lit the cancer stick he rolled down the window and breathed in deeply, enjoying the feeling of this burning in his lungs. But the real reason he smoked was the release of tension. Every day he brought himself a different gas station, thinking he would go in and buy a pack, maybe it was just for exposure so that he could be done faster. But, today was the end. The meaning of which he wouldn't know. The end of being clean from nicotine. This reality was quite simple and couldn't continue itself for the end. An end was not as simple as it may seem.