Depiction

four

-Harry-

I woke up to an all too familiar feeling. There was a constant thrumming in my head, dry feeling in my throat, and I felt on the verge of vomiting. My eyes slowly opened, the sun streaming in through the curtains. I lifted my head off of my pillow to look at the body latched to my side. Its not even an abnormal situation anymore. Waking up with a nameless girl naked, and her limbs tangled with mine. She was blonde, and had ridiculous makeup, made her look like a fucking clown honestly.

I chuckled to myself, and the pain in my head was more noticeable. A groan of pain escaped my mouth, I removed the girls arm from my side, and lifted the blankets off of me. I tried to recollect the events that occurred last night, as I swung my legs over the side of the bed now sitting, scoping the floor for my boxers. My eyes spotted the black briefs laying in my jeans near the door. I stood up and walked over lazily to retrieve them, and slipped them on.

As I walked to the bathroom in the hallway a name popped into my head, Monica. I believe that was her name. Maybe.. I don't quite recall. Once into the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror, I was quite the sight. I had sex hair, and bags under my eyes. I'm sure my thirteen year old self, that had dreamt to become a lawyer would be fucking disappointed. Being honest I kind of am as well. I opened the mirror cabinet and pulled out a bottle of asprin. I popped of the cap and shook four into my hand, two for me and two for Monica. I may be an asshole but its the least I could do, considering I don't even know what her name is for sure.

I walked from the bathroom to the kitchen getting there in minimal time in my small apartment. I put the pills on the counter as I grabbed two glass cups and filled both of them up halfway with water. Grabbing two of the four pills, I dropped them in my mouth and gulped them down, accompany of a mouthful of water. I filled my glass a little more, and grabbed the remaining asprin, bringing it with me to my room. Monica, I believe was still asleep, so I set her cup and dosage of pain killers on the bedside table next to her.

I brought my own cup of water with me over to the desk I had in my room. And sat down in the computer chair. There was not much point in it really, I didn't have a computer there, I didn't have college work to do there. I guess it was more of an house warming gift from my mum, for doing college things I presume. Which obviously I'm not enrolled in. I'm kind of a fuck up compared to my sister, she graduated college and is loving life, living it to its fullest. Whereas I don't love life as much, and waste it shagging random women from a bar, drinking myself silly, and getting high all the time. But it's my decisions, and my life. I chose to live like this and it's my fault.

A pack of cigarettes lay on the desk next to the lamp, tempting me. As well as that stupid fucking journal given to me by Dr.Weston, or whatever. Maybe, I'd draw in it, I mean not like I really wanted to. I know Dr.Weston wanted me to though. I reached for my pack of cigarettes, and pulled one out grabbing my lighter; also next to the lamp. I held the cigarette in my mouth and lit it, putting the lighter back in its original place.

I took a shallow breath feeling the the smoke fill my lungs, and I exhaled blowing it out of my nose. I kept my eyes locked on the stupid leather journal sitting in front of me. I took two more drags and put it out on the ashtray.

The journal was basically yelling my name. Fuck it. I grabbed the journal and a pencil in the coffee cup sitting on the corner of the desk. I opened the journal, to the very first page, clean and new. I put the pencil in between my fingers and brought the lead to the page. I skillfully began to draw a person. The head, the hair, the facial features. The person was dancing in the rain, clothes wet and dripping.

Within the time of being fairly close to finishing the picture, I heard rustling behind me. I turned to see that the blonde girl was awake, and fairly confused. She looked at me, and her eyebrows were furrowed together, as if she was trying to figure out who I was. I ignored it and turned back to the picture I was working on.