5:31 a.m,
Sunday
October 14, 2018.
I was parked in a 7-11 parking lot, a cigarette in hand. I'm about 5 hours out of town. I don't have a phone. I left. Slowly I lifted the lit up tobacco stick to my face and sucked in the smoke, allowing for it to pollute my lungs and paint them black. I felt numb, but I was so damn angry. My mind constantly replayed the events that occurred back at home. My throat clenched and my face flared. I can't help it. I shouldn't even be that pissed about it. My legs began to shake and my eyes stung. I blinked attempting to push away the tears. My fist balled up and my knuckles turned white. I shoved my fist into the steering wheel a couple times and hot, quick tears flew down my face.
"Goddammit!" I hissed. I dropped my cigarette and it burned a hole into my jeans. My teeth rubbed together and I stared at the hole.
"Are you fucking serious?" I whined, my voice crackled. I breathed heavily and shut my eyes, my body shaking. My shaking subsided, but tears still streamed down my red cheeks. I made sure to put out the half cigarette as I sniffled and opened up the middle compartment between the two front seats. Soon my hands grasped around the familiar plastic bag and I ripped out the green contents that lay inside it. I grabbed a pack of cigars that read, "Zig-Zag's" across the top. I tore off the top and pulled one out. I cracked one long line down the side of the brown paper, throwing the tobacco out my window. I replaced the brown tobacco with green marijuana. My brain stopped thinking, but the anger settled in my face and stomach. I hastily licked the paper together and smiled at my masterpiece. I held the blunt between my lips has I searched my pockets for a lighter. Finally I found the beloved pink lighter and lit the flame to the brown stick of weed. I smiled as the THC entered my system. My problems melting away.
I don't need help. I thought.
I need options. I sat up in my seat and glanced out the window, my eyebrows roping together when I noticed flashing red and blue lights as they grew closer to my truck. I glanced down at the illegal substance in my hand as all color drained from my face.
"Shit."
YOU ARE READING
Lovely | Terrornuckle
Hayran Kurgu"You're lovely" -- Brian is battling his mind, he has been off of his mood stabilizers for a couple months and he's beginning to fall again. He is desperate for a helping hand, but denies any who attempts. Brian has turned to unhealthy coping skills...
