'Hey guys, look; it's the faggot!' I felt my breath stop and my pulse quicken. I just carried on walking, avoiding them, my arms horizontal with my body and my hands balled up into fists.
'Where you going, fat ass? Get the fuck back here!' I walked faster.
'Why you in such a rush? Got a date with your boyfriend? Or are you just trying to get rid of the extra body weight, you emo fuck?' I walked faster again; I was nearly running, but I couldn't run. They'd make fun of my inability to run long distances.
I felt a hand grab my hood and neck, and then felt my back hit the concrete. I felt feet colliding with my rib cage over and over. I felt fists embracing my face viciously. I felt hopeless. I felt pain. I felt like crying.
I hear them laughing. I hear shoes hitting flesh. I hear them mocking the tears they'd caused. I hear them telling me to get my boyfriend to kiss it better.
I see red. I see white. I see blue. I see black. I see stars.
I see my curtains as I wake up, the sun filtering through. I had dried tears on my face...I hate that dream, it's my worst memory. I have the scar along my leg to prove it; they'd left a deep gash. I always woke up before they got the knife out, which I'm grateful for; it was the worst pain anyone, other than myself, has ever given me. I needed a drink.
I then realise I didn't have a hangover. I don't have anything drink, except for half a bottle of Jack Daniels...better than nothing, I guess. I drink it in one and am left with a desire for more, a burning desire. More. I need more, god dammit; I fucking need more and so help me god, I was gonna get some. I check my wallet, and realise I was running out...fuck. I thought I'd earned enough last week...I'll work some more tonight, because I'm spending this all on booze.
'Hey Gee, where you headed?' Fuck. I pretended not to hear to pocket sized God calling my name.
'Hey, Gerard!' I sighed.
'Yeah Frank?'
'Where you going, man? I'm headed to work, we could walk together or...? I mean, you don't have to-'
'Dont be silly, I'd love to; I'd never pass on a chance to check you out!' And I winked at him, earning myself a chuckle and a blush from him.
We walked in a companionable silence for about 15 minutes, but then Frank asked where I was headed again.
'Im just going to work, man. Why?'
'Just wondering, I guess...where do you work?'
Fuck.
'I just work at this store down town...sells stuff, y'know? Pretty boring, but it uh, yeah it pays..' I started blushing at my lie. It wasn't entirely a lie...I guess.
We parted ways with a hug, which I find strangely ironic. Why do people hug when they leave eachother? Is it because we're so desperate to be close to the person, we make it last? Is it to let them know we care? Or simply just to let them know we 're leaving? I guess I won't know. Ah well.
'Hey, Mikey! Mike-ster!' I yelled with a smile to the tall blonde guy with glasses on. He was my brother.
'Hey, Gee. Haven't seen you since last week! Out of money, I guess?' I nodded, laughing. Mikey always had work, and if he didn't, I could make my own; in this part of town, I sure as hell could.
'Not entirely, but this dude I like decided to interfere with my life and hid all my booze. So, here I am, in need of money to buy more!' We both chuckled.
'Well, you're here just in time; a shipment just came through, real nice.' My curiosity got the better of me, and I followed him down into the basement where I saw packages after packages, stacked neatly. I inhaled deeply; it was a beautiful smell.
'Gee, we're gonna be rich. Filthy stinking rich!' We laughed, high fived and hugged. He opened up the nearest package with a pen knife. I felt my eyes widen.
'Are they all...?'
'Most of them. Some of it's the usual stuff.'
We really were gonna be rich.
Mikey sure as hell had some work for me to do.
The packages contained cocaine. Some contained weed. And I was gonna get my share out of all this.
