Caught Red Handed

Chapter One, Unsettling News

I do not claim this photo as my own.

Tom's Perspective

My tired and aching body laid in the familiar fabrics of my leathery couch. I felt so drunk and broken that I could throw up. I had already puked twice against my will, what's to stop a third time from happening? My body was limp in the imprint of faux leather I had laid on, and my mind was lazily popping out random thoughts. I felt so dizzy and my head hurt like hell. I need some form of release from this sorry state, but all I could do was sit in silence as my mind drifted more and more. My eyelids slid closed on their own and my mind eased as the pain faded away, along with the feelings of my body. Is this what dying is like?

My body returned to me slowly and pain seared in my mind, as if someone had violently slammed my brain against a wall and then put it back into my skull. I felt sore, tired, in pain, and on the verge of passing out again. And don't forget the sickness whirling around in my stomach. I felt disgusting, not to mention miserable. I hate this habit of mine, but I am so addicted to it. The only thing I hated more at that moment was Edd opening my door with his spare key. "Tom! Good morning! Me and Matt are thinking about going out for breakfast, want to come with?" He asked rather loudly, which was amplified with my terrible headache. I groaned in response and covered my face, trying to block the annoyance out of my life. "Oh right, you got drunk last night... I'll get you some advil and water." He whispered and I listened with a screaming headache to his footsteps. Once he approached me with the pill and a glass of water, i removed my shielding hands, downing the pill eagerly.

I chugged the flavorless, cold liquid in the glass before carelessly setting it anywhere on my coffee table. Edd was still standing over me, either about to lecture me or make me lay down so I could rest. I'm leaning towards lecturing though. I squinted and forced myself to look at his oak brown eyes, riddled with concern and sympathy. He had been giving me this look so much lately. What was he worried about, that I had been affected by the house incident a year ago? No way, that's history. I'm just stressed, that's it. Just stressed. Edd gently guided my weak body into a laying down position and I winced when a ray of light from the door hit my eyes. I quickly squeezed both of my eyes shut and relaxed as a warm blanket was laid out on me. "Go on and sleep Tom, but I'm talking to you once you feel better." He warned and I slowly nodded, then feeling my head get gently lifted by a smooth hand. A fluffed up pillow was placed under my head and I was then returned to my comfortable position. My aching body yearned for rest once again, so that I could sleep off my pain. I felt a wave of misery and rest wash over me as I fell asleep slowly.

I awoke feeling better partially, but my body still felt sore and uncomfortable. I was never comfortable in this short, chubby human body. I look so repulsive, and feel even more so. I wanted to leave this body. Leave this world. Leave all of my responsibilities and pain behind me. I'm not a dreamer, oh no, I'm the opposite. I want to die. I half wished that damn Commie had really killed me. It'd be better than moping around and having my friends check on me to make sure that I wasn't dead. I felt useless. Alone. Depressed. I considered the idea of getting a pet as I slinked into my kitchen area. Maybe a little furry pet would make me happier? Something to always accompany me? But pets are stupid and require responsibility. If anything, I'm a dumb responsibility enough. Too much of a responsibility. Having a job was even more tiring. At least I work at night, so I get to lay around and nap all day. I prefer it that way, if I'm honest. Most people are appalled by the thought of stooping so low as to be a bartender, but I feel at home there. Just me, booze, and my fellow scum of the Earth. Sometimes people will ask me out, but they're all drop-dead drunk. And definitely not the type of people who can pick a decent person to date. I may get drunk, yes, but not like that. I get drunk in private, or when my friends are around to keep me stable. I'm still not any better than those slums.