drugs ⌛ l.h [au]

one

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i watched the blonde haired boy walk out the alley once again for the third time this week, at exactly 2am in the morning. always leaving with that brown paper bag he tries to stuff in his pockets without anyone who was around noticing just incase they got any ideas.

well i had an idea.

he was an addict. i could tell from the sluggish way he walked, his bloodshot eyes, and just the way he looked. he was like a zombie.

i don't know his name, age, or anything else about him other than he's a drug addict. that's about it. and that's why i come out here three times a week t to see if he'll appear or not. he does. everyone sunday, tuesday, and friday night. today's friday, meaning that he'll be back on sunday.

oh, also i'm not a stalker. i just have nothing better to do.

my name is kris, not short for kristal. just kris. i'm seventeen and a senior in high school.

i saw the boy collapse on the ground, and he let out a groan.

i wonder how many days of sleep hes missed.

i would go and help him and ask if he's okay but i already know his story and this happens almost every time he walks out that alley, so it normal.

after a few moments he stood up, dusted off, and turned the corner, disappearing from my view.

what a strange boy.

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