I rolled up the £5 note, and with a swift sniff, I was happy. Cocane. The stuff of wonders.
A small frown came to my mucked up face, hidden by the hoodie that was permanently on my upper body half. I had run out. I put my coat on and ran to the alleyway, half an hour late.
"Oh look, did the ladybug decide to grace us with her presence?" The greasy old man who gave me my cravings announced. I kept my eyes aimed at the ground, a sign of respect here. Fear. That's all respect was, it was a misconception, the brain didn't want to be scared, so it made it admiration.
I handed over my money, £200.00–it was the same every day.
"Have you got it today?" I questioned, hoping they did. I needed it tomorrow for the fight.
I need the rush of adrenaline, as I take the heroine, the surge of courage I get, the reason that I win the fights.
The street fights.
I am the best. I am Jubalion. I am a street fighter. I am me.
•¥•¥•¥•¥•¥•¥_¥•¥•¥•¥•¥•¥•Hey kitty kats, her name Elizabeth, but her stage name(Jubalion) is pronounced 'joo-ba-lay-shun'.
If you take drugs, and your not supposed to, then contact your doctor, or talk to me. I am not really on this account much, so find "smart_cookie_bitch". That's my other account. I will be more than happy to talk about it, and say hi. Love you xx
