The game of life
It was 1pm in the grey suburb Westfield. The black clouds blocked the evening sun that hadn't been seen in days, fresh graffiti stained every inch of wall space and litter was shamelessly piled along the paths. Every house on Dudgeon Street was identical, cheap and lifeless. On Dudgeon Street in the house 18 a teenage boy was beginning to wake up.
Joseph Moore was stocky with long dirty blonde hair that hung dead on his shoulders and veiled across his vague misty eyes. In his room loud metal rock was still blaring from his stereo and the TV was left flickering on. The moment Joe woke up he felt like crap, his head was pounding and he badly needed to vomit but he just couldn't bring anything up. As usual Joe couldn't remember much from last night except that he had downed too much beer, snorted too little coke to satisfy his addiction and probably set something on fire.
It was easy to score drugs at his shit tip school Egiton Park that was the only reason he ever bothered going to the worthless place, he would have to go back tomorrow unless he was very lucky. Joe forced himself out of bed then checked his bedside table and smiled. There was a tiny amount of pure white powder left in the small, clear plastic bag he'd bought last night.
Getting high was kind of fun but at the end of the day just another dead end thing to fill up space in his terminally boring and dreary life. Drugs were one thing, Joe also went drinking, fighting, shoplifting and when things got really desperate he watched cheap porn. Joe jammed the metal straw up his nose then sucked up every last speck of cocaine left from the previous night. His nose felt like a chunk of lead but he could feel the tingle of effects wash over him like a gentle wave, the world was simply a better more colourful place. Joe turned on his x-box and absorbed himself into the world of guns and war, he became a god killing anyone who he thought deserved it without any consequences after the fun. Suddenly the screen turned black. Joe scowled and threw down the controller.
"Work" he muttered menacingly, but the TV wouldn't obey.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" Joe screamed
In blind anger he picked up the TV and threw it out the window. It crashed to the ground and exploded into pieces.
For a moment Joe froze feeling the shock from what he had just done. Then he laughed.
Just like in the game the TV had been bad so Joe had punished it and there were no real consequences. Joe no longer existed; there was no person inside him he simply wasn't there. Now he was a god invisible untouchable and if he played the game right then life would be in the palm of his hands. A whole new confidence had awoken inside of him
A thin balding man with baggy eyes and flabby lips barged into the room shouting at the top of his lungs. After a few seconds Joe recognized him as his father. The words were just noises stringed together they meant nothing so Joe just smirked and pushed past the pathetic man who was worthless to the bigger picture.
Joe's parents were weak and hadn't looked at him for almost a year. Whenever someone mentioned anything about their son they would give a blunt answer then rapidly change the subject. His mother was a $20 whore and his father just pretended he didn't exist. Joe had stopped trying to remember their names a long time ago. Now was the time, Joe had been saving up the money he stole from his parents cobwebbed wallets for months so he could finally buy the one thing he truly wanted.
Joe called up the jackal and asked how much a handgun would cost him.
