Cigarette Dreams (Looking For Alaska One-Shot)

An Epiphany

She was only 16, he was 16 sleeping away.

        Intoxicated beyond her mind, she sat in the driver seat sobbing uncontrollably. Muddled with both pain and regret her foot pressed against the pedal. Her breathing was hard as she headed towards the flashing lights and wailing sirens knowing there would be no turning back. White tulips in hand for one second her lungs crushed under pressure throwing her into an unbearable pain, but finally she saw the light.

He was only 20 wanting closure, she was only bone dust lying in a forgotten coffin.

        Pudge screamed. Not the bloody murder scream, the scream you give to reach relief. He let it all out the pain, the irritation, and the suffering, yet he still remained in the labyrinth. A college dropout, an avid drunkard, he was nobody. Everybody urged him to move on, that it was only foolish love. Puppy love they called it, but God any form of lost love hurts like hell. 

        Tonight was the night where he will find it. The closure his heart longs for. To close the gaping hole in the circle, to mend the broken ends, to fix everything. It was a minute pass 7 and his plan slowly started to collapse inside his head like a falling glass shattering into pieces. He would attempt to tell his mom and dad about his plan to find the only other survivor of the hurricane, Takumi. Like a ship crew stuck in the eye of a storm everything seemed calm and quiet, until one by one the sea swallowed his friends. First Alaska and then Colonel.

        He could already see it, the projection of a disappointed father and an angry mother. He was nothing more than a drunken regret lingering in his parents' house. People stared at him the way you look at an overflowing garbage can. Some claimed that his mourning was an act and his intentions were to manipulate his parents. 

"Mom." Pudge said in his stern voice, his mother's grayish mop of hair flipped. Her brown eyes filled with concern she studied him. "Dad." His father, watching the news, eyed him through his spectacles.

"Miles?" His mother's mousy voice was laced with worry. She quickly put her hand on his forehead. Pudge let out a groan from both 'Miles' and his mother's always jumping to conclusions act. He wasn't Miles anymore, hell he didn't even answer to that name because it was merely a name. His identity became Pudge.

"Son." His father's barotone voice called.

"I-I," the words he planned suddenly ceased to exist in his head,"m-mom d-dad–" deep breaths deep breaths. "I'm leaving." By the way his mother jumped and how his father instantly threw his glasses across the room Pudge knew it was a poor choice of words. I need to be independent, would probably be a better wording. He mentally slapped himself at his foolish as his father marched up to him.

"Son, we've done a lot for you. L-leaving isn't an option until you grow up."

"But dad, you don't understand I need to find closure. It's out there somewhere and my mind can't stand it here anymore."

"You're a kid, that's what you are. Little boys don't run off into the sunset with a dollar in their pocket. Didn't I teach you some ounce of decency?"

"I'm 20."

"You're heart and mind still are 14."

        My lips trembled. A burning rage grew inside my stomach. I just stood there silently fuming and exploding. It was quite strange how one could become a volcano in a blink. The small string of self-control tethered around my head waiting for that final blow to release.

"You don't understand Miles. One day you will, but you're still that stubborn little boy who throws fits over legos." My mother whispered putting her hand on my shoulder using her other hand to stroke my bushy hair.