I wake up, warm, but uncomfortable. There's already something wrong with that. I woke up.
I wasn't supposed to, but I did. I look around and see a bare loft, save for beer bottles on every available surface, and a burnt trash can in the center.
Where the hell am I at? Was I raped last night, and taken home to a stranger's house? I peek under the warm sheets that covered me to find that all my clothes were still on.
So nope, scratch out rape. What the hell happened last night though. I can't remember shit. All I remember is taking half a pill enough to get fucked up to finish the job.
I reach in my pocket and search for the pills. Still there. I sigh a breath of relief. At lest I'm not in a druggie's home that'll steal my most peaceful way of dying.
The door creakily slides open, which I'm guessing is the front door slides open and a huge black man with a tie and suit and briefcase walks in.
He looks at me with surprise, then smiles, before sitting his briefcase down.
"Yo Roger? You still here?" The dude I still have no idea who is, although now my stomach flips uneasily with nausea. Ugh, that's what I get for takin Oxycotin on an empty stomach.
A dude comes out from another room my eyes had no intention of even wandering about what was stored inside.
He had short chopped hair, a beautiful dirty blonde, with a sleeveless black tee shirt and a ripped jair of jeans hugged his hips.
"How was she?" The black dude asked, taking off his tie and tossing it on the counter.
"Slept all fucking day. I'm tired of babysittin. I gotta go now. I got a gig soon, and April's waiting." He said, his voice scruffy and hoarse from apparent singing.
"It's not babysitting if she just slept all day."
"Whatever, stop bring homeless people home." They guy named Roger glanced at me before glancing back to the huge black dude, that towered over him.
"Don't forget you were a certain homeless person once that I brought home." The black dude snickered, tossing off his suit jacket to show a plain black tee shirt underneath.
"Why is she here though?"
"Found her in the park high, after I was coming home from the bar. Got kicked out actually."
"So?"
"She was high on pills, talking about killing herself man." The black dude with the goatee whispered. But duh, I'm awake, and somewhat sober, so of course I can understand what he's saying.
"Damn. She's fucked up. How old is she?"
"I don't know, she was too high to tell me."
"But you can't just bring her home Collins."
"So what was I supposed to do Roger? Wait and watched while she overdosed?"
Why in the hell do they think they can talk like that with me right here as if I'm not even here. I can hear them just fine. My stomach flops again, and I hold the urge to ralph over every available surface.
"How do you know she had pills?"
Wait, how did he know I had pills?
"She had like fourteen of em in her front pocket. And a half. Some type of painkiller. I was kind of scared for her Roger, she had no fear of dying...at all. I coudn't leave her."
"Yeah, yeah. you. You coming to my gig tonight?" Roger asks, picking up a guitar that I hadn't seen before until just now, and slings the case over his shoulder.
"Yeah, I might. Have papers to grade. Have to deal with stuff. Ya know Mark was a lot more supportive when I told him about this."
"Well Mark's a softie, and really he'll agree to anything pitiful enough."
I was pitiful to them. Hahaha, rich, that's rich. Like I give two shits about what they think. I don't even really know these people, at all.
My stomach does somersaults and that's it. I'm gonna officially hurl chunks.
" Where's the bathroom?" I speak, my voice kind of rough from not speaking at all.
"Uh, right there." Roger speaks, pointing to a door slightly off it's hinge to the right.
I jump up and run, my high top chucks sliding across the flat floor.
I slam the door shut, and hold my hair above the toilet as bile rose from my mouth. Yuck.
Oh god, the one thing I hate more than my life is vomiting. I hate it. It's like the bile represents everything bad about my life and no matter how many times I throw up I can't get rid of it cause it's always gonna be inside me.
I spit in the toilet one last time before I flush. I'm so not taking Oxycotin without something in my stomach.
I exit the bathroom, the door a little looser than it was before. Oops.
Upon the coffe table beside the couch was a small glass of water and a peppermint.
I look around the apartment, but find the two men nowhere to be found. I take the packaged peppermint first, and pop it in my mouth.
The peppermint cools my burning throat, the acid in my stomach having burned it ruthlessly.
Where did the two dudes go? I look behind me, and I see a fire escape behind me. There I see two dudes on the fire escape.
It was Collins, but another white dude, not the guy named Roger. He was an absolute midget against Collins. He was short, and oh my God. This dude was as pale as ice. Someone needs to get a tan.
His hair however was a strawberry blonde and cropped and flipped in the front. Such a pretty cool hairstyle for such a geeky looking dude. I might've not thought he was a out of season geek if he didn't have on cordoroy khaki pants and a striped sweater and a blue and dingy white-ish scarf on.
Collins covered his face with his huge hands and had a certain look of tiredness. I see he had traded his black slacks for black jeans and a extra open button shirt.
I see the midget look at Collins with a look of sympathy as he puts his hand on Collins shoulder.
Then I see it wasn't tiredness. Collins was crying. Why was he crying?
Why does seeing Collins cry, make me feel bad inside? Hmm. Maybe it was me. Afterall, I was just plopped into their lives, even if he did invite me. It was kind made me feel like I was intruding in on something I shouldn't have. I should leave.
I walk out of the apartment, sliding the door closed behind me gently. God knows I don't wanna wreck the sparce place.
I jot down the stairs, my feet tapping every other step.
I leave out the building, the bright sunlight coming from outside causing pain to shoot to the back of my eyes. I never realized how dark it was inside that apartment.
It blinds my eyes, and I whine in temporary pain. I shield my eyes, and continue walking out the building into the street...