If Smiles could Kill

Sorry son of a gun

I am a mentally unstable, emo, procrastinator son of a gun. I get it, I get it. She keeps saying it in different ways.’101 ways to tell your son he is useless’ should be her new book really. My mom won’t stop spewing words out of her mouth. At the speed of what seemed 500 words per second.

I got kicked out. Again. “It’s the fourth time now. What are you doing with your life Daniel?” She said in this annoying voice. Only one thing will stop MOM MONSTER! Earphones in, Volume up, Goodbye world.

I tune in on my overplayed ‘My Chemical Romance’ playlist and lie one the sofa, occupying all of the space with my outstretched legs, so that she would not sit there and continue ranting. I close my eyes and just drown in the music of Boy Division. The screaming part just gets to me. It’s so fuckin touching.

Annoying mom’s aside this day was perfect! Freaking damned perfect.

My bike was repaired. - got a text. It isn’t exactly in mint condition. Considering that Mr.Asshole Jason beat my bike up with a titanium baseball bat, It held up good.

OH GOOD. Mom had gone back to her room. Probably to work on novel, short story, poem or sumthin. I sat up and headed to the kitchen. SCORE! Root beer! Cold too! Quickly, I grabbed the can and dashed to the attic. Where my room is.

The walls were plastered with band posters and the floors scattered with sneakers, socks and dirty clothes. I swear our housekeeper is useless. I collapsed on my bed and looked up at the ceiling. My awesome spray painting is still there. HELL in bright red with blood spatter design all over it. “Pfft.” Probably why the housekeeper wont dare enter my room. I sat up and drank the soda in 3 gulps. 

 My phone blares and I check. Who the hell was calling me? Unknown number.

“Hello. This is Hell speaking. How may I fuckin help you?”

The one on the other end of the line was silent. “Uhm…Is this Daniel”

“Yeah. Who are you? How’d you get my number?”

“Err… This is Jake…From the bike shop. You left your contact number.”

“Right, Sorry bout that, bad day”

“No worries. Listen, you can get yer bike now.”

“All right thanks. Can I drop by right now?”

“Sure. Just bring the fixin fee.”

“Thanks again. Bye.” – CALL END-

I didn’t feel like walking so I took a cab. I’ll ride back home.

The bell on the door chimed as I went in the shop. Nobody was at the counter.

“Excuse me!” I shouted. 

“I’m here! Just go over.” I followed the direction of the voice and entered somewhat of a garage. Oil cans, tools and dirty rags were all over the place.

“I’m Daniel. We spoke on the phone.”

“Yep. I remember.” He said as he touched his nose and left a stain.

Shiiiit! This guy is so handsome. Seriously. I mean for all I know this could be a photo- shoot.  He wore tattered jeans and a stained white tank top. Crap… Look at those guns. Biceps, Triceps, If is stood next to him I’d look like a freaking scare crow.

Wheat colored hair, light green eyes. DAMN IT.

“You got something right there…” He touched his nose and smudged it even more. I couldn’t help but laugh.

He smiled. He freaking smiled at me. Why am I so happy?

“One sec.” I wiped the grease of his nose. “There.”

“Thanks.” He smiled again. Stop smiling, Damn it.

I nodded.” Don’t mention it.”

“”Let me just get your bike.” He said and walked off further at the back of the garage. Those shelves were piled with so much stuff so I lost sight of him. He returnedwith a yellow bike. NEON YELLOW!

“Uhhmm… I think there has been a mistake. I specified to have it painted black.”

“Well that isn’t any good. Might get run over when you ride it. It’s not at all visible in the night.”

That’s why I said black! You don’t exactly want to glow in the dark when you paint graffiti! I was annoyed. Boy was I annoyed.

There’s no helping it. I sighed and handed him money. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks a lot.” He smiled. Again. I nodded and thought ‘thanks for nothing’

With that I left and rode back a lot poorer.