You saved me from myself

Chapter Two

The days went in a dizzy blur for Louis. Not knowing up or down, he stared at the now empty bottle of rum with a churning stomach. He swore that he bought that yesterday, annoyed that it was already empty.

A loud banging on his door awoke him from his thoughts. He stood up, pushing back the bile he felt rising in his throat, then padded towards the door to answer. He already knew who it was.

"Mr. Anderson," he nodded at the man glaring at him on the other side of his doorstep.

"It's Thursday, Tomlinson." He nodded with his head towards the elevator. "Out."

Louis sighed deeply, he had expected this.

"Mr. Anderson please, it's two degrees celsius outside, at most." He said exasperatedly. "I have nowhere to go. I will freeze to death."

"As I said last I saw you, that isn't my problem, now is it? I'd advise you to get out before I call the cops on you."

Louis grunted in response, shuttling the door in Mr. Anderson's face before going to get the little stuff that he had.

He had ended up with a small duffle of his clothes and a few toiletries, as well as a small bottle of Jack Daniel's that he had shoplifted that morning. His thin little mattress had, how sad it may sound, come with the apartment, so he had to leave it there.

When he exited, Mr. Anderson met him outside, stretching out a hand expectantly that Louis dropped his keys in.

"I'm glad to see your sad ass off," Mr. Anderson scoffed. "I'm getting depressed only looking at you." And with that, he turned and walked down the hall.

Louis rolled his eyes, the words did not event affect him anymore, had not done so for years.

He drew his jean jacket tighter around himself to try and ward of the cold that was about to hit him when he went outside. The jacket was pretty nice, actually. It was light washed with what used to be white wool lining the edges, the wool had long since taken on a grayish brown tone. He had gotten it at a second hand two years ago, and regardless of how dirty and wore down it would become, he still loved it.

Louis took a deep breath to compose himself before stepping out into the darkening November afternoon. The sun was about to set and the street lamps around him had started to flicker and light up. Without really thinking, he steered his steps towards the park that he knew was nearby.

As he walked, he hummed on a song he had heard filtering out from a shop yesterday, just down the street from where he was now. The walk to the park did not take too long, and once there he haltered, not really knowing where to go next.

Looking around, he saw a park bench situated under a large tree. The tree may not have any leaves, he thought, but it would do as an okay shelter for tonight as long as it did not decide to rain.

Even though he had slept for the majority of the day, Louis was exhausted. He did not really remember the last time he had eaten, it must have been a few days ago, at least. He drained his travel sized bottle on whiskey that he had brought with him before sitting down on the bench. Since he had not eaten, the buzz and warmth from the alcohol washed over him almost instantly.

Louis felt drained and sick, tired and sore. He lay down on the bench, duffle as a makeshift pillow, and then he was dead to the world.

...

Louis woke up to someone poking him in the side with something hard. Annoyed to be woken from such a good sleep, he opened his eyes.

"Hey, boy. You can't sleep here it's public space."