Dougie the Druggie

How did I end up like this? Living on the streets with nothing but my bass and the money I've got in my pocket. O ye, I remember now. I know i shouldn't take them. It just feels so much better after I do. It feels like all my problems just disappear and i'm in my own little world where nothing can go wrong. The guys don't even know where I am. They've probably gotten a search party out looking for me. Or they've just given up by now. Yeah that's what they've probably done, they've probably forgotten about me, like they always do. It's been 2 months. They're probably happy that I've gone. They never appreciated me when I was there. I bet you they never even liked me, I bet you they just put up with me because I can play bass. They could replace me in an instant if they ever wanted to. Pfft! I bet you they already have. They never really cared about me. They just pretended to. They just made me feel like shit every time I was with them. They didn't notice that they did. It wasn't what they said, it was how they said it. I just felt unwanted, like I was just there, like a piece of furniture. At least I have Josh as a friend. I know he's not really my friend, he's just in it for the money, but he's the closest thing I've got to one. So I just have to take what I've got . It's better than nothing. I have to warn you now this isn't a sob, love, horror, drama or any type of story. This is my life and it's as true as it can get.

I walk past the old shop on the corner of the street and I look in the window. I don't recognize the person looking back at me. He stares back at me then I realize it's me. My eyes are bloodshot, as red as red can go, my purple hair as messy and greasy anyone's hair can get, I haven't washed it in ages. I coloured it back to purple cause I thought it looked good. But the others disagreed, they said it wasn't the right "look" for the band. I look at my face it's so pale it's literally white, I look like a ghost, the only colour coming from my bloodshot eyes and the bruises that cover most of my face. I touch my swelling lip and i wince in pain because it hurts so badly. I stare at myself in the window for a few minutes, then I think to myself. Am I ready to admit it? Ready to admit what I've become? It wouldn't matter now anyway because my life's over. No one cares about me anymore. But I need to do it for myself, not anyone else, just me. And I finally say to myself, the thing I've wanted to say for months, but I was too scared to.

"My name's Dougie Poynter and I'm a drug addict."

A/N: Thank you to anyone that's read this and anyone who will review. This not a true story, I know it says this is a true story but it's true in the story if you know what I mean. and in no way am I saying that Dougie takes drugs. I don't know yet if I should just keep this a one shot or make it a chaptered one. I'm not sure yet can you please tell me what you think.B.T.W can you please check out my story Because of Me, Thank you.