Don't Point Guns When You're Angry
Washing Away the Morning
Perry woke up in a daze, at first forgetting where he was. But once he had noticed, he quickly made his way to his own private washroom and spent an hour with a bag of weed. He opened the door in a cloud of smoke and quickly realized the sound of the smoke alarm sounding in the hallway and found both foster parents waving towels like flags over the smoke-alarm.
Shit. He was screwed; he’d been caught. He looked out into the bright hallway dumbfoundedly only to see his new guardians smile back and remark, “It’s that darn new toaster; they always do that.”
Perry smiled back. He had gotten away with it. For a moment, he felt overcome with a smug contentedness.
“Did you want some breakfast,” his foster mother asked.
“Uh… breakfast? Yea, breakfast. Okay.”
“Alright, get cleaned up and come downstairs. We’re just making some eggs.”
Brainlessly, Perry turned back towards him bedroom and locked the door once more. He decided he would get comfortable with doing so before he forgot what he had been thinking about; quickly shaking it off. But still, he couldn’t think and shook his head clear of others thoughts once more. He felt dizzy, deciding that shaking his head wasn’t helping before his vision began to blur with small black dots and he hit the floor with a hard smack.
Perry looked up from a pile of drool to the alarm clock before him; deciding that the time didn’t matter because he wasn’t even sure when he had woken up, let alone passed out. There was a rapid knocking at the door and the foster parents, whose names Perry realized he hadn’t even known, were calling his name.
“Perry? Perry, are you in there? Open the door. Hello? Perry, can you hear us?”
“Yea,” Perry called through the door. “I just… fell asleep. Sorry.”
He stumbled across the room and opened the door once more to see the bright and happy couple. “Perry, did you need anything?”
Perry shook his head, even when they mentioned breakfast.
“But there are some eggs downstairs for you. Don’t you remember; you wanted some?”
“Oh… Yea. Okay, I’ll be right down. Just let me get changed,” Perry stated, talking for the first time since he had arrived. He hadn’t, in fact, remembered about the eggs.
“Okay,” the woman smiled. “But it’s getting cold, so hurry up.”
Perry nodded before closing the door once more. He ripped open his backpack and tried to find a clean pair of clothes. He sighed, deciding that the clothes he had worn two days ago would have to do. He smelled- He could tell. So he quickly made his way to the washroom, seeing his stash still sitting openly on the counter. He hurried to find somewhere to stash it once more; deciding under the mattress was the best place before turning on the hot water.
He stood under the sprinkling water, feeling it lightly burn his skin as he inhaled the steam. Droplets were falling off the ends of his hair and he observed his boxer build. His body showed the story of his life, and he tried hard to hide it with layers of clothes. He was the only one to ever see, or know the story of his life. Not Dean or even his shrink could possibly care about his life. Luckily enough for him, he thought, they didn’t have to.
Shit. He was screwed; he’d been caught. He looked out into the bright hallway dumbfoundedly only to see his new guardians smile back and remark, “It’s that darn new toaster; they always do that.”
Perry smiled back. He had gotten away with it. For a moment, he felt overcome with a smug contentedness.
“Did you want some breakfast,” his foster mother asked.
“Uh… breakfast? Yea, breakfast. Okay.”
“Alright, get cleaned up and come downstairs. We’re just making some eggs.”
Brainlessly, Perry turned back towards him bedroom and locked the door once more. He decided he would get comfortable with doing so before he forgot what he had been thinking about; quickly shaking it off. But still, he couldn’t think and shook his head clear of others thoughts once more. He felt dizzy, deciding that shaking his head wasn’t helping before his vision began to blur with small black dots and he hit the floor with a hard smack.
Perry looked up from a pile of drool to the alarm clock before him; deciding that the time didn’t matter because he wasn’t even sure when he had woken up, let alone passed out. There was a rapid knocking at the door and the foster parents, whose names Perry realized he hadn’t even known, were calling his name.
“Perry? Perry, are you in there? Open the door. Hello? Perry, can you hear us?”
“Yea,” Perry called through the door. “I just… fell asleep. Sorry.”
He stumbled across the room and opened the door once more to see the bright and happy couple. “Perry, did you need anything?”
Perry shook his head, even when they mentioned breakfast.
“But there are some eggs downstairs for you. Don’t you remember; you wanted some?”
“Oh… Yea. Okay, I’ll be right down. Just let me get changed,” Perry stated, talking for the first time since he had arrived. He hadn’t, in fact, remembered about the eggs.
“Okay,” the woman smiled. “But it’s getting cold, so hurry up.”
Perry nodded before closing the door once more. He ripped open his backpack and tried to find a clean pair of clothes. He sighed, deciding that the clothes he had worn two days ago would have to do. He smelled- He could tell. So he quickly made his way to the washroom, seeing his stash still sitting openly on the counter. He hurried to find somewhere to stash it once more; deciding under the mattress was the best place before turning on the hot water.
He stood under the sprinkling water, feeling it lightly burn his skin as he inhaled the steam. Droplets were falling off the ends of his hair and he observed his boxer build. His body showed the story of his life, and he tried hard to hide it with layers of clothes. He was the only one to ever see, or know the story of his life. Not Dean or even his shrink could possibly care about his life. Luckily enough for him, he thought, they didn’t have to.