false alarm - g.d

39//Grayson

I stumbled across the empty parking lot. I wasn't going to let this bottle fall and shatter to the ground. It was going to be my best friend for the time being. Ethan wasn't any help and Jack . . . He wouldn't look at me.

My hand reached for the yellow tape, ripping it off the door frame. My hand searched for the pocket knife I had in my pocket and cut the seal on the door, opening it.  My feet make it's way to the huge dark stain in the cement that was marked off with tape. I sat down, right next to it, taking a swig from the half empty bottle. Why couldn't it fucking burn my sorrows and regrets?

"Sorry Aaron," I slur, laying back as I stare at the fans going in circles high up above the ceilings. Jack was going to kill me. I was positive about it.

I was so reckless and didn't even notice that I pushed the crate out enough for it to tip over. They didn't know we were there, no one was suppose to know. Once there was gun fire it was done. He bled out on the floor instantly, the bullet right through his head.

Jack didn't get his weed and he lost a friend. Due to me.

I looked at the second floor, and my feet just took me there. The stairs creaked as my weight pushed on it every step I took. I walked around so I was right in the middle and climbed over the railing. The bottle wasn't going to leave my hand, I wasn't going to let it go. I had to finish what was left of it. So I did, the slight burn now dull and soothing. I swayed back and forth, the bottle eventually slipping from my hands and crashing into a bunch of pieces.

"Oops."

I clung onto the bars, leaning forward. I wanted this. I wanted to die. I caused a death, of someone I didn't know. My parents are dead so don't have to worry about mourning parents. Ethan . . . He's a strong kid, he'll survive without me. It was perfect. Nothing to worry about, I was a nobody. A kid who sold drugs and drank to get away from the shitty foster homes we've been in.

I sat in the bar, looking down still. My vision was getting really hazy, black spots forming in my eyes. I could feel my body moving back and forth, and I laughed. I actually laughed. This was a shitty place. Filled with deaths, anger problems, opinionated cunts, loose girls and men, shitty people in general.

Lights from outside the parking lot startled me, almost making me lose my balance. Someone was fucking here. I climbed back around, and ran down the metal stairs, making so much noice, but I didn't care. I needed to get out of there. I broke into a crime scene. I didn't need to get caught for being drunk at the age of  17.

I snuck out the back, falling into my hands and knees. I got up as fast as I could, dusting off my pants and hands. The cool air stung as they touched my raw palms. My knees were burning, the skin opened and fresh.

***

I couldn't help but think of that person who came. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for that person. I looked up, pulling my hair back, before leaning back into my chair. I was over thinking again, that bottle of whiskey calling my name. 

Self hatred was thriving to get out of me. To bring that stupid dark child back into my mind. I wasn't going to let it. I have a reason to fucking breathe, to wake up to.

Her hatred wasn't going to keep me away from her. That was my cupcake, and I was going to get. I was going to end Jack, and claim that prize.

Her whiney little comments would alway make me chuckle. She was so annoyingly cute, it was hard to get rid of her. Maybe when everything is over with I'll take her everywhere in my house. I haven't had anyone on my table before. I could eat those pretty pink lips of hers on the couch again. Fuck her in the shower, have her ride my face.

I missed Sahar. Hard to admit, but she was something that kept my dark child in place.

She kept it from resurfacing.

xx

Night ladies hope you enjoyed!