Status: Active: awaiting next chapter
Our Disappointed Hearts
Chapter Four
The ceiling was white and my mind was blank. I was all out of weed and I had yet to buy anymore drugs until I got some more money. Somehow, I'd do it. I spent my last one hundred dollars on a couple dozen joints. I was just waiting for the system to legalize that shit already. With the recession and all, the stupid government needed something else to tax and that would be a goldmine.
I thought of what I'd buy if I were to get some money. My body was craving some sort of opiate but those always got me kinda sick. I'd get pretty high from enough of em' but, nausea ensued as well. I could score some coke if I fucked the right person but that was only if I really needed to take some drugs. Most people have a certain drug that they are addicted to, I'm not a drug addict, I'm a high addict. I don't care what I'm taking, as long as I feel high. Any sort of high will do, just as long as I don't feel sober. Sad, I guess. I don't mind the lifestyle. I hadn't fucked for drugs too many times, maybe once or twice. To be honest, I hate men. If I were to ever fall in love it most certainly wouldn't be with a man. Sex with a man is something worse than getting teeth pulled, in my opinion. I wouldn't really call myself a lesbian because I'm not looking for anyone. I'm a loner and that's how its always gonna be.
I took my mp3 player off of my tank-top clad stomach and put the earphones in my ears. It was one of those mp3 players that looked like iPod knockoff. It was red and I had scratched "Meeba Jesus" on the back of it. Don't ask me what the hell it means, I was drunk off of my ass when I put it on there. It probably meant something to me drunk, and probably will the next time I get drunk. Not sober. The funny thing about me is, when I drink too much I can only remember the last time I drank too much. So I'll start talking about whatever it was I was talking about before I passed out, or threw up, or went to sleep. It kinda reminded me of a superhero or something. I'd probably be a villain though.
I closed my eyes and listened to the music. It was one of my favorite songs and I memorized it.
"From the way that you acted
To the way that I felt it
It wasn't worth my time
And now its sad cause all I missed
Wasn't that good to begin with
And now I've started you begging
Saying things that you don't mean
It isn't worth my time
A lines a dime a million times
And I'm about to see all of them
Goodbye to you
You're taking up my time"
In the middle of drums crashing and guitars shredding, I heard a loud grunt.
"Ugh. ZEPPLIN!" my brother barked.
I sighed, got up and headed to the living room of our small house. I walked out to see my brother and two men on the couch. One of them was bald and had a long, bright red, braided beard. The other was bald with a swastika tattooed on his head. They both were making eyes at me and I scoffed.
"What do you want, douchebag?" I said plainly.
"We're going out to punish some niggers and spics. We'll be hitting the local convenience store as well. We can't forget about the fucking dot-heads." he laughed along with his pedophile friends.
"Your point?" I asked.
"If any cops come around asking for me, you gotta tell em' I haven't been home for a while. They're on to our alliance, Zep," I cut him off.
"Zepplin." I stated firmly and his idiot friends glared.
"Whatever, but you need to make sure that they think I'm gone." he was so foolish.
"Whats in it for me, Sonny?" I negotiated.
He took two twenty dollar bills and a ten out of his pocket.
"Drug money." he smirked.
"Alright. Make it seventy five and you've got a deal." I smirked back.
"Done. We're gone, as far as the cops know." he looked me in the eye.
"Sonny? When did you get back?" I joked.
He smiled, handed me the cash and they left.
I finally had some money so I decided to go out and get my fill. If the cops came, it would only make them believe he was gone more anyways. As much as I hated the guy, he got the money from Ron and that kept me alive. It kept me pretty stoned, too.
I began my search for a drug dealer, switchblade in pocket. These streets were cold and I had to protect myself somehow.
I thought of what I'd buy if I were to get some money. My body was craving some sort of opiate but those always got me kinda sick. I'd get pretty high from enough of em' but, nausea ensued as well. I could score some coke if I fucked the right person but that was only if I really needed to take some drugs. Most people have a certain drug that they are addicted to, I'm not a drug addict, I'm a high addict. I don't care what I'm taking, as long as I feel high. Any sort of high will do, just as long as I don't feel sober. Sad, I guess. I don't mind the lifestyle. I hadn't fucked for drugs too many times, maybe once or twice. To be honest, I hate men. If I were to ever fall in love it most certainly wouldn't be with a man. Sex with a man is something worse than getting teeth pulled, in my opinion. I wouldn't really call myself a lesbian because I'm not looking for anyone. I'm a loner and that's how its always gonna be.
I took my mp3 player off of my tank-top clad stomach and put the earphones in my ears. It was one of those mp3 players that looked like iPod knockoff. It was red and I had scratched "Meeba Jesus" on the back of it. Don't ask me what the hell it means, I was drunk off of my ass when I put it on there. It probably meant something to me drunk, and probably will the next time I get drunk. Not sober. The funny thing about me is, when I drink too much I can only remember the last time I drank too much. So I'll start talking about whatever it was I was talking about before I passed out, or threw up, or went to sleep. It kinda reminded me of a superhero or something. I'd probably be a villain though.
I closed my eyes and listened to the music. It was one of my favorite songs and I memorized it.
"From the way that you acted
To the way that I felt it
It wasn't worth my time
And now its sad cause all I missed
Wasn't that good to begin with
And now I've started you begging
Saying things that you don't mean
It isn't worth my time
A lines a dime a million times
And I'm about to see all of them
Goodbye to you
You're taking up my time"
In the middle of drums crashing and guitars shredding, I heard a loud grunt.
"Ugh. ZEPPLIN!" my brother barked.
I sighed, got up and headed to the living room of our small house. I walked out to see my brother and two men on the couch. One of them was bald and had a long, bright red, braided beard. The other was bald with a swastika tattooed on his head. They both were making eyes at me and I scoffed.
"What do you want, douchebag?" I said plainly.
"We're going out to punish some niggers and spics. We'll be hitting the local convenience store as well. We can't forget about the fucking dot-heads." he laughed along with his pedophile friends.
"Your point?" I asked.
"If any cops come around asking for me, you gotta tell em' I haven't been home for a while. They're on to our alliance, Zep," I cut him off.
"Zepplin." I stated firmly and his idiot friends glared.
"Whatever, but you need to make sure that they think I'm gone." he was so foolish.
"Whats in it for me, Sonny?" I negotiated.
He took two twenty dollar bills and a ten out of his pocket.
"Drug money." he smirked.
"Alright. Make it seventy five and you've got a deal." I smirked back.
"Done. We're gone, as far as the cops know." he looked me in the eye.
"Sonny? When did you get back?" I joked.
He smiled, handed me the cash and they left.
I finally had some money so I decided to go out and get my fill. If the cops came, it would only make them believe he was gone more anyways. As much as I hated the guy, he got the money from Ron and that kept me alive. It kept me pretty stoned, too.
I began my search for a drug dealer, switchblade in pocket. These streets were cold and I had to protect myself somehow.
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