Dazzle These Nights Dead

I growled angrily, frustrated with my bodies rejection to all of the brutal things I had put it through as another coughing fit erupted from my convulsing, aching lungs. Something's got to give, I know smoking and everything is unhealthy, but that's not going to stop me from doing it anytime soon.

Well, actually unhealthy is a bit of an understatement, I guess lethal would be the correct word for it. That's the main reason I still do smoke, the main reason I'm not comfortable anymore without three packs of cancer sticks in my coat pockets. I'm more addicted to them than I have ever been, literally going through four packs a day easily...

I like the idea of what the tar can do to my body, I like the idea of how it's going to make me crumple up in a rotting heap later in life, I mean, I'm going to die someday anyway, why not try and speed it up a little? I'd rather be anywhere than here... it's not like I have a life or anything, it would be a lot different if I did. But I don't, and I never will.

I shuffled along the snowy sidewalk, my shoes scraping against the rough surface every few seconds to the beat of one of our older songs... it seems like everything does that now. If I try to eat a morsel of food my teeth unintentionally grind the food to the sound of one of our songs, I guess that's one of the main reasons that I rarely eat anything more than a few tortilla chips and coffee every day. I can't even color in my artwork anymore with out the pen scratching against the paper to a beat. Not that it matters, my art has become a failure anyway.... but still, it's literally about to drive me over a fucking bridge, I can't stand it. I don't want to think about that band, it just kills me to think about it. That's why I'm letting it disappear... or actually, letting myself disappear as it seems.

I tugged up the collar of my jacket, pulling it tighter around me, ducking my head down as I passed a group of teenagers skipping down the sidewalk, their arms linked together with smiles plastered on their faces. But unlike I used to have to do at times, I wasn't hiding my face so that I wouldn't get paraded with people if they recognized me... but because I'm to ashamed to let them see me. I know they will just poke fun at me anyhow. It's not like it used to be, I mean, I'm even sick of seeing my own face, I already took down every reflective surface in my house, the lights are always shut off so I can't even see my shadow choking the poor innocent floor. I'm sick of seeing me, I'm even sicker of seeing that monster.

Really, can you imagine having to share the same body with a man that you hate? Can you really imagine that? It's not even sensible, if he falls, I fall. If he dies, I die. Another reason I am so nonchalant about my poisonous habits, if I have to die to tackle and destroy that ass hole, then so be it, it's all worth while. Besides, I'll be helping the rest of the world a little bit, they won't have to deal with either of us, and how nice that will be.

Another set of coughs squeezed through my lungs, burning in my throat as I shoved the door of the gas station open, the little stupid bell ringing, drawing more attention to me, as if I wasn't getting enough from my continuous choking. I don't see why those things are necessary. Can they not see when someone walks in the door? I mean what the hell; they are right behind the register which is right beside the door. I sighed, wiping the blood I coughed up onto my jeans as I approached the counter.

The little old lady behind the counter just stared at me, and eyebrow cocked as if I had five eyes, which I hate when people do. It's not like I don't already know that I am an obvious train wreck, and that I probably look like a scruffy old hobo, but do they really need to point it out further? I cleared my throat, digging whatever money I had out of my pocket and pushing it toward her on the counter.

"A pack of Camel cigarette's please..." I mumbled, hoping no one would recognize my voice, I'd really rather they didn't. It would be nice just to get what I need and leave, but of course no one can cope with doing something that easy can they? No, that's just ridiculous in their book.

"Sir, that's not enough money. I need about 3 more dollars." The old lady stated without even touching the pack I asked for. I sighed, shaking my head, I was almost positive that I had gotten more money than that out of the drawer this morning. I just hope I hadn't dropped it. I don't have much money to live off of anymore, honestly I don't. I'm about to lose the house because I can't keep paying such pricey of payments, it's kind of pointless to live there anyway... that house is made for a family, when we bought it we intended on having a few kids later on... I can see now that will never happen, so what's the point? I shoved my hands in my pockets but found not a penny.

"I'm sorry, I don't have 3 dollars. I thought I did, but I guess not."

"Well then you cant get the cigarettes, so either buy something else or be gone. Don't expect me to just hand you a discounted pack because you're a bum. Besides, do you even know what these things can do to you kid? Just get going" she said, waving me toward the door, but I didn't budge. Did she really just try and give me some speech because I'm a supposed "bum" and cigarettes are bad? Do I honestly care? I came here to buy the damn things, not to rip some old lady off because I'm a "bum".

"Look lady; don't make these false accusations against me. You don't know me, you can't judge me as a bum because of what I look like. Do you even know the shit I have been going through for the past seven months? That's right, you don't, and until you do or until the day you stand in my shoes, then you have absolutely no right to judge me. You know, most people don't look all dressy and clean because they can't afford it. But no, of course anyone who dresses like this must be a bum, oh goodness excuse me for taking your time then, sense obviously I'm not good enough for you." I snapped, my voice becoming an obviously sharp and defensive tone, what can I say? She hit a sensitive subject.

I watched as she propped her hands up on her hips, knitting her light grey, almost white eyebrows. But I didn't feel the least bit of shame for chewing her out, she brought it on, all I did was ask to buy some cigarettes. I feel absolutely nothing for people like that, they are so judgmental, it's like they haven't got a single fleck of empathy in them. Sometimes I wish they could just see for about an hour just what it's like being stranded in this state, but they'll never understand.

"Excuse me sir? I don't give a rat's ass about what you've been through. I'll judge you as I please. I'll judge you by what you are." she hissed, cutting her dark brown eyes at me viciously, by this time an obvious several pairs of eyes were boring eagerly through my bones as if I were going to pull out a gun a shoot the old lady, I'm not that ignorant. "Now please do yourself a favor kid, quit killing yourself and leave. Teenagers can't have these things anyway, it's illegal, you better be glad that I'm not going to turn you in. Leave before I change my mind." I scoffed, shaking my head furiously.

"Teenager? Really? Really? Are you kidding me? I'm 31 goddamn years old! Quit trying to fucking tell me what to do with my life! If I want to die then let me do it- I might as well- I mean with every particle I breathe in from the air everyday, I'm losing a few moments of my life anyway due to bacteria, viruses, gases, everything. Why not go with a source that I know about. That I know won't make me completely miserable. Now if you really want me to leave then so be it. I'm terribly sorry that I've been such an inconvenience by defending myself. You won't be the first person who has reacted in such a way when they saw me. Good day la-"

"I'll buy them."

I spun around as a pale hand outstretched, placing a wad of cash on the counter in front of me. There stood a girl, dark shoulder long brown hair hugging around a semi pale face, illuminating jade eyes rested in her sockets, her features smooth over across her flawless skin. She couldn't be much shorter than I, and she wasn't necessarily the most slender girl I'd ever seen, in fact she looked like she might be somewhere just below my own weight.

She looked terribly familiar, but it seems like her face reminds me of one that I hate... I just can't think of who that could be. She didn't even glance up at me; maybe she was talking to someone else, buying something for someone who might have actually desperately needed it? But there was no one there. Her eyes just bore into the flesh of the old lady behind the counter expectantly.