There's No Sympathy for the Dead, Is There?

“What the fuck is so funny?” I breathed.

“Nothing, just you looked like you’ve been running for your life.”

“What was that all about anyway?” Was he making fun of me? He definitely was.

Right then he pulled out two bottles of vodka. Now I knew why he was running, he sure as hell didn’t pay for those.

“Let’s drown these, shall we?” Ronnie cheered, almost as if he was already drunk. If I didn’t know him better, I would’ve thought so, but hanging out with this guy every day, you learn that he always acts silly. It’s his nature, looking all bad and insane, but being one of the nicest people ever.

We quickly found a spot we liked in the park, behind some trees so no one would call the police, when they saw us.
Within quarter an hour both bottles were emptied, leaving two pretty drunk guys on the ground.

“Fuck yeah!” I yelled into the air, Ronnie jumping slightly next to me.

“Huh?”, was his only response.

By now both of us had calmed down a bit. We’d been sitting in the park the whole day, it was even getting dark. The alcohol slowly started fading, making both of us able to sit and talk properly again.

“I know how I’m gonna get rid of that bitch. You know Christie” I pointed out. I have the remedy for love..

“The girl that hits on you all the time? The one I wanted to dump? What’re gonna do?”, he asked wondering.

I cannot change you, you’ll never change.. You don’t fucking have to change.
“I’ll just get her out of the way. I’m not sure how though, and I might need some help. You know, to get her somewhere and shut her up and stuff.” I grinned slightly.

“No fucking way in hell. You’re not gonna kill her, cause she hits your nerves, Max.”

“What do you want to do about it?” A huge grin plastered onto my face.

Call me a psycho. I am. I won’t deny it.

“You need sleep.”, he stated, to get rid of me, I guess.

I took that as an opportunity and cuddled into his side, while mumbling, “Good night, Ronnie.”

“Max, go home. You actually have a bed to sleep in.”

“What if I don’t want to go there? I like it better, here.”, I protested, knowing I wouldn’t get far.

Without a word he took my hand and picked me up off the floor, waiting until I didn’t seem to stumble any second, before releasing my hand and walking into the shadows.

“Ronnie! Fuck! Wait!”, I called after him.

He stopped and turned around, cocking an eyebrow.

“Where are you going? You won't sleep out here.”

“Okay, where am I sleeping then?”, he asked smirking. He already knew I was going to invite him over.

I told you I was a druggie, right? Yeah, well that explains what happened when we got home.

We were sitting on the bathroom floor, in my house. I refer to it as my house, because if I had wanted it, I could’ve easily had it. Remember Bryan.

In a little gap between us lay a sheet of paper, white powder in lines on it. We did that from time to time. Well more about every second day, but we were still alive, so it couldn’t have been that bad. Moreover we didn’t really care about what happened, at least I didn't. If I just passed out and didn’t wake up again, I wouldn’t have cared either.

We still lay there across the floor, when I heard the front door open and close again. Fuck, my mom was home.

I slowly opened the door, peeking out, noticing she was nowhere to be seen. Grabbing Ronnie by the wrist I pulled him into my room, which was next door and yelled a quick, “Mom Ronnie’s sleeping over”, before closing and locking the door.

“So” I rambled, slumping onto my bed. “Ronnie?”, I started again, turning my head into his direction. Before I could say anything more, I saw his mouth slightly open and heard a few snores. Great. That fucker fell asleep.

When I finally fell asleep, I couldn’t be bothered to do anything anymore. I didn’t change, I just passed out on top of the covers.