𝐌𝐫. 𝐆𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧-𝐘𝐁𝐍𝐁𝐀 (ON HOLD)

𝐎𝐍𝐄.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞;

𝐁𝐢𝐫𝗺𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝗺, 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐚𝗺𝐚
𝐌𝗼𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 7𝐭𝐡, 2016.
9:23 𝐀𝐌
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NICHOLAS SCRATCHED HIS ARM QUICKLY, looking around the room. He tapped his foot quickly, in time with the ticks on the clock.

"Bitch, can you stop?" A girl in his class snapped.

"Who the fuck you talkin to?" He asked the girl, ready to get out of his seat.

"You, druggie." She snarked.

"Didn't yo fuck ass daddy die from an overdose? Oh okay!" He clapped back. "C-Can I go!" He snapped.

His class looked at him, along with his teacher. "Nick, this is going to be on your tes-" He immediately got up, putting his hoodie over his head.

"I'm not taking no fucking test." He whispered, immediately walking out of the room.

☞︎

"Symere." He tapped the boy's shoulder.

The dark skin looked back at him. "Nicholas, I'm not allowed to sell to you." He sighed. Nick gave him pleading eyes. He needed this. "No, Nick! Go get help, you fucking druggie." He pushed past the 15-year-old.

Nicholas put his shoulders down, huffing silently. His eyes were bloodshot red, and he couldn't stop twitching. "What the fuck."

He slid past the groups of kids at his high school, running out the doors.

Nicholas was currently high off cocaine. He got into his mother's stash, and now was looking for more. He pulled out his cracked iPhone, going to an old dealer, texting him.

He sighed in defeat when the man said he couldn't meet up until later, and he would need head to even sell it.

The head part wasn't the problem, Nick would do anything for some coke. But he wanted it now.

"Nick, you good?" Taymor asked. Nick flinched and looked up at the brown skin, squinting.

"You got anything?" He asked silently. Taymor rolled his eyes.

"You know we can't sell to you anymore. If we do we get reported. You gotta get clean off this shit Nick." Taymor scolded.

"I'm not taking advice from a fucking dealer. You're the one that got me hooked in the first place." Nick snapped quietly.

"It's not my job to make sure you don't OD, you're grown as hell."

"I'm 15, Taymor! You think I like this? Feeling like I need drugs so I don't go insane? I was twelve when you and Symere got me hooked on that shit, and now, y'all won't help me pay for rehab or anything!" He cried, tears brimming in his already red eyes.

Taymor frowned slightly, knowing the boy was right. He and Symere wanted more customers, so they started selling by the middle school. 7th grade Nick was already depressed, so why not fuel it a little more. They never expected him to turn out so terribly three years later.

They got what they wanted though. They were rich enough now, there was no reason for them to not pay for Nicks rehab.

"Stop going into your mom's stash, before I stop selling to her and you start getting beat again." Was the only thing Taymor said.