iv. FIRST AID 101

39 4 0
                                    

U-WUT watches as his mother throws his bag of clothes at him

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.


U-WUT watches as his mother throws his bag of clothes at him. He was standing at the entrance of his door as his young stepbrother looked at him with such sadness and disperse. They didn't want him to leave, not like this. This wasn't something a thirteen year old kid should see.

"Mom! Please! Let him back!" He begs for U-Wut. "It's okay, Minnie." The older sibling spoke up in a cracked voice. "I will come back, and we'll—no you won't." His mother interrupted.

"I don't want you back! I never want you to come back! I am ashamed I birthed this." She explains in anger. "Mom. You don't mean that..." A tear runs down his eye as he grabs his bag.

She chuckles, "you should've thought of this before I found that in your room. Let's go, Min."

"No! U-Wut! Please!"

He awakes quickly, opening his eyes with pants as he hears the voice echo over and over in his head. U-Wut hated when he had dreams like this. He looks over to his side and it was almost two pm.

U-Wut couldn't even sleep last night. He barley fell asleep at five in the morning. He rubbed his eyes as he looks up as the door was open, how long has it been?

He sees a pair of crutches, making him sit up a bit more. U-Wut turned to his side and saw a small paper. Then, there was a bottle of tylenol there.

He picks the paper up, reading it. "Left somewhere. Will be back at around six. It will be dark, there's food in the kitchen. Don't make a mess. And you know who this is so I am not writing a dash and my name."

U-Wut sighs. "He could've at least said something about those damn crutches. And why did he put them there?" He complains to himself as he sets the paper down.

He looks at the bottle, feeling a wave of anxiety rush through as he remembers how badly he wants to do a line right now. But, he has no way to contact the person. He got drugs from the gang, yeah. But for just him, he would buy from some guy who went by Manny.

He doesn't remember his phone number..shit. From the amount of times he's written it on his hand, leg, and had it carved on his desk. How the hell doesn't he?

U-Wut felt cold. Extremely. He didn't even want to get up from the low energy he was having. He tries to stand up, wincing from the pain. Those pills will do nothing, yet he still took two.

He limps over and tries to grab the crutches, succeeding so as he sighs of relief. "Why is it so cold.." U-Wut mutters to himself. He exits out of the room, the crutches making it easier to not put so much pressure on his left leg.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: 2 days ago ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍, vincenzo cassanoWhere stories live. Discover now