The Smell Of Spray Paint

Sixteen.

Even though being so naked made me feel a little weird, I still got to sleep pretty soon after Gilbert left. I was tired, the nap we both accidently had earlier in the night didn't really help.

The strange part came when I woke up; I was still in Gilbert's bed.

I sorta curled up here and dozed off when he left, but I never expected him to let me stay here when he got back. I sat up quickly; wincing at the pain in my head I got from getting up too quick, and looked around for him.

He wasn't here; there wasn't any sign of him ever being here... Nothing out that he could have slept on... He could have been so tired he got back here and just collapsed on the floor, woke up early and went to work but he hadn't even left me out breakfast.

I tried to reassure myself, there wasn't any breakfast because I told him I didn't want to be dependent on him, it was as simple as that...

But even the clothes he had taken to wash weren't out. I gripped the blanket hard.

He really hadn't come back at all last night, had he?

I ran my fingers through my hair; I had to go look for him... But I was naked and had no idea where to start. I had never figured out which laundrette he used, and even then he might have been nowhere near there... It was hopeless.

But I wasn't helping at all by sitting here and freaking out about it, I had to do something. I needed clothes... If I rummaged deep enough in my bag I might have found something but I wasn't counting on it.

I looked around for some of his clothes to wear but there was nothing in the room, not even his spray paints. With a determined look, I fixed my gaze on the hole in the ceiling. He must have put them up there.

I readied myself before taking the steps up to the wall. My body felt cool in the open air, but my decency wasn't the biggest thing on my mind.

I took my run and jump up to the hole in the ceiling; I got it on the second try and started to squirm. My sternum and right down to my abdomen was getting bruised and scratched as I worked my way up, my arms were burning as I pushed up from my elbows, my legs failing as I tried to find some kind of way to use them to push myself up from the air and over the ledge.

I got one leg over the side and used all I had to roll myself up, my bare feet gripping and pulling at the rest of me.

With a final heave and a cry, I was up. I scrambled to my feet not taking the time to catch my breath. Pushing up the glasses that had half fallen off my face, I looked around for something to wear.

Thankfully, the clothes weren't too big on me. I chose some pants with an elastic waist band with more holes that I could count and a red shirt that had some kind of German slogan on it.

I didn't bother with shoes; I just slipped back down from the hole in the ceiling and headed out of there. I had to find him, even if it put me in danger of being caught. Knowing he had been getting high last night only made things worse, it meant anything could have happened to him!

Lucky for me, I didn't have to look far... As soon as I left I spotted a heap down the alleyway. It was Gilbert, passed out and not moving.

I gasped, "Gilbert!" Running towards him I stopped and crouched beside him, shaking him. He was still warm, thank goodness, breathing too.

I grabbed the bag of clothes and took a deep breath to smell them. They were clean; he had been coming back when he fainted.

I sat back and put my head in my hands, "Oh Gilbert... Oh my god..." I took deep breaths; I couldn't get him to stir.