What The Fuck Polibio?!

eight

Mattia's pov:

i watched something get delivered to the bitch next door. it looked like it was food. but shit i get my drugs delivered in food boxes.

"damn when did i become a spy" i asked myself chuckling.

i sat back and thought about the pills that were on my counter. i wanted to take them so bad. but i only had three for the week. when i overdosed, i had taken four. so my dealer thought it would be a good idea to lower my dosage. like that's his fucking place.

i walked over to the counter and began unscrewing the bottle when i heard music start to play. again. will this bitch give it a break.

i decided that i was going to go talk to her. not just yell at her to turn down her music but at least get to know her name. basic shit.

i knocked on the door and the music stopped. just like last time she answered in an oversized t-shirt, shorts, and faded blue marks all over her body.

"may i help you?" she asked with a hell of an attitude.

"please turn your music down" i said as nicely as i could without making it seem sarcastic.

she walked back into her apartment leaving the door open. she grabbed her phone and came back to the door, looking directly into my eyes. she had to have known i was high.

"song requests?" she said with a friendly grin.

"i'm mattia" i said holding my hand out for her to shake it.

"yo what happened to your hand?" she asked seeming worried.

"the blunt attacked me" i said looking down at the burnt part of my hand.

"i'm chris" she said while laughing and then reaching to shake my hand.

we didn't say much after that. she promised to turn her music down and lent me some peroxide for the burn. she was definitely going through something. when i looked into her apartment there was only a speaker, one suitcase, and a plate of mexican food on the floor. i assumed she didn't have very much more than that considering she's lived here for about a month now and obviously have had time to move in. i would've thought she would at least have a coffee table. nope. dinner from the floor. but i wasn't one to judge.

chris. chris. that name played over and over again in my head while i finished my blunt. that was a guy name. maybe it's short for something. eh i was too high to try and figure it out at this point. i just wanted to light up and then get some sleep to be honest.

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