I crouched close in between some bushes and carefully pulled out a small baggie that contain a joint. With a sigh I pulled the joint out of the baggie and went ahead to lit it. I smoked it while moving from my 'hideout' and began walking around the area.
It was a horrible area to live in. It was a wonder why a lawyer of all things would willingly live in a area full of crime and junk. Didn't lawyers make a shit ton of money? I shrugged the thoughts away as I continued to smoke.
It was bad to be smoking, and most of my money now went to the hands of dealers who gave me whatever was cheapest and what they wanted to get rid out the fastest. But, smoking made everything go away. It was relaxing and all dangerous the same. Just a few hours of not being a mess and not thinking made it worth everything.
"Hey you! Stop!" A male voice called out. I groaned and cursed myself, my bad luck had not changed then.
I turned and looked at a bald guy who looked like one of those movie bikers who were overweight with anger issues and tattoos covered every inch of their skin. "What?" I asked wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. Did people still murder people in daylight? Well, I glanced at the sky realizing I might've slept in too late. The sky was turning into a dark blue already. Fuck.
"Empty your wallet. I gotta pay for gas." The bald guy demanded. "You ain't giving your money to anything important. Druggies like you should just stay home and overdose."
I winced, "Fuck you too then." I mumbled, "Look buddy, not happening. Go find someone else to shake down. This isn't high school anymore." I told him as I made my escape, putting the lit out of the joint on my skin and gently placing it in my jean pocket.
The wind was suddenly knocked out of me and I found myself in a alleyway harshly pressed up against a wall. The smell of rotten fish surrounded me and it was hard to breathe. The guy had me pinned up against the wall by my neck.
"I'm not going to repeat myself. Give me your damn wallet." He sneered. Black spots started to cloud my vision, well fuck.
High Enough; K. Flay
