So, being bored, I decided to touch up one of my older pieces… I read it and thought that it was pretty interesting, but it still needed work (as most of my stories do). So, here is DRAFT TWO.
My entire body tensed. My fingers slipped in and out of a fist on the couch and my eyes were squinted shut. My breath was uneasy. Sweat slowly dripped down my face from behind my hair and it felt so hot that I could barely breathe. I was about to be sick, but I resisted it. I didn't know what to think.
I found the energy to stand up, my legs almost buckling under the weight of my body. I staggered over to my pack and reached inside of it. My body lost some of its hyped up tension as I felt my calloused hands glide over a smooth box. I pulled out a cigarette, the sweet tobacco that I needed so much, and with shaking hands, I lit it carefully before letting the lighter fall to the ground.
And I breathed it in.
I closed my eyes, my heart pounding inside of my skull. I couldn't even remember to breathe, let alone Lucy—
Lucy…
I sputtered out some smoke as the tears filled my eyes. I tried wiping them away, my body collapsing on the floor. Coughing from the cmoke in my teary eyes, the cigarette fell and I placed my head on my knees.
I sobbed for a bit, although trying not to. I didn't understand why I felt so ashamed… I was all on my own, there was no one to see me upset like that. At least not for long.
It wasn't too long before Max's clenched fist banged on the door.
"Jude! Its Max!"
I sniffed, wiping my face with my sleeve.
"Jude!!" He pounded the door. "Let me in, man!"
The edges of my vision blurring slightly, I dug my face into my knees. Usually getting high meant escaping, not being in this much pain.
There was a loud crash from the door, and Jude knew that Max had slammed himself up against the door. "Goddamnit, Jude!!" Max yelled, getting angry. "You're such a selfish bastard!"
I thought about this, before standing up and pushing open the door. Lifting my arm was a horrific chore, because it felt heavy as if I had dumped my jacket in water before slipping it on. And the aching…
"How am I the selfish bastard, Max?" I asked, quiet enough to be a whisper, but not quite.
Max stared at me, with a disgusted look on his face. "Are you high?"
Before I knew what I was doing, I grabbed him by the collar. My teeth grinded together, and my eyes were bulging in pure foolishness. I threw him at the wall in the hotel room I was in. I threw him with such violent force that he crashed and stumbled to the floor.
"I'm the one that came to New York, Max!!" I yelled as loud as I could. "I came after her!! She never came for me!! She's a selfish bastard!! She's a selfish bitch!!"
I'll never forget the look on Max's face after what I just had said. He looked at me, confused, empty, and horrified, and whispered, "What the hell happened to you?"
Yep, so, that's about it.
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