Oh god.

I'd done it again, I'd gone and fucking done it again. I pushed my hands backwards through my sandy hair, staring into the mirror like you do y'know? The crack in the top left corner constantly reminded me of what I was, a poor boy. I watched myself as I slowly blinked, staring into my reflection for no reason. I watched my jaw, my cheekbones and the shape of my face. I was actually nothing special. As retarded as it sounds, it surprised me.

Of course acting like a total cocky dick all the time does sort of add to the bad boy visage, cracking out more sex jokes than positions in the fa-hucking karma sutra, smoking, drinking. It was just things I did. I scrape enough money together to buy clothes that however much you wear out they look like you paid for it. But jesus what was it that made girls throw themselves at me? Being a dirty, orange blob for most of my younger years really made me think about why I supposedly wasn't that way anymore. I guess it was because we'd grown up, nothing much had changed. Well, I don't think things have. That much.

But I fucked Frankie again.

Shit, shit, shit. I shouldn't ever touch someone so fragile, not like her. Her sister fucking abuses her, like properly. It's stupid and selfish but she always is there, not in a sad way but she seems like she really cares. She doesn't just chuck herself at me the moment she sees me, she hugs me like she cares. That should push me over the edge sometimes, but it never does, and I don't know what's wrong with me and I don't know what's right with me I'm still that orange blob.

Ow, shit my arms are sore, I've been holding on to the rim of the basin for ages now. I feel like a dumbfuck staring at myself. Now I'm on my bed, my railing bed like the hospital ones with thin crummy sheets. I don't think I've ever said 'I hate my life' before, and I don't think I do either. Most people ask me, 'Don't you hate being poor?' it's like I don't really know much else so I'm used to it. Though I did practically live round Stan's and the Broflovski's when I was younger. Off subject. I did It again, I can't take it back either.

I hate him so much. But I want him. Frankie's a big girl now, she knew, she didn't care, she should've known to have stayed away… Oh who am I kidding? It was my fault. It's always my fucking fault. Shit, the door just opened. Stop hitting your head on the wall now Kenny, you know who it is. I spring off my bed, thump-creak down the stairs and skid into the bare plaster and wood hallway, my old grey socks let one toe peep out on each foot.

"You're back", I choke out in relief as he kicks off his at least fifth hand Doc's. He rolls his eyes at me as I stare at the fresh cut across his cheek; his bangs on the same side were matted with dried blood. My mouth hung open for a moment, then I closed it, this was normal. Actually normal.

"Yeah I fuckin' am", Kevin said gruffly, even though I'd gone past expecting a reply a minute or so ago. My older brother shuffled past me into our strictly basic kitchen, we didn't have enough money this month to get rid of the damn mould patch directly over the kettle. It always annoyed me. I got past him easily and took a piece of stale bread, I pop it in the toaster and wait as the irons slowly heat up. I jump up onto the edge of the counter, I expected Kevin to perch next to me like he usually did. He didn't and took one of Dad's beers.

"You know Dad will go crazy when he realises" I highlighted the 'when' in my sentence; Dad cared more about that drink than his own mother.

"I don't care, I'm not a pussy like you", Kevin snarled back at me as he opened the cheap alcohol and raised it to his lips. I smirked.

"What can I say, we are what we eat am I right?" I snatched my boiling toast, not bothering to butter it as the butter was nonexistent at the moment it scalded my fingertips. Kevin chortled into his beer as I passed, then a voice echoed in the back of my mind. 'Then you must be a right dick then mustn't you Kenny?' I ignored it and sat on the bottom step of the stairs. I took my head in my hands after finishing my dry and scratchy toast which left my throat in ribbons. Why did I let him do this to me? Why did I let myself do that to her? Jesus Christ I'm messed up.

For some reason RHCP Californication came into my head. One of their many amazing songs with even better lyrics, one of the things both me and Frankie loved to listen to.

Psychic spies from China
Try to steal your mind's elation
Little girls from Sweden
Dream of silver screen quotations
And if you want these kind of dreams
It's Californication

It's the edge of the world
And all of western civilization
The sun may rise in the East
At least it settles in the final location
It's understood that Hollywood
sells Californication

Pay your surgeon very well
To break the spell of aging
Celebrity skin is this your chin
Or is that war your waging

First born unicorn
Hard core soft porn
Dream of Californication
Dream of Californication

Marry me girl be my fairy to the world
Be my very own constellation
A teenage bride with a baby inside
Getting high on information
And buy me a star on the boulevard
It's Californication

Space may be the final frontier
But it's made in a Hollywood basement
Cobain can you hear the spheres
Singing songs off station to station
And Alderon's not far away
It's Californication

Born and raised by those who praise
Control of population everybody's been there
and
I don't mean on vacation

Destruction leads to a very rough road
But it also breeds creation
And earthquakes are to a girl's guitar
They're just another good vibration
And tidal waves couldn't save the world
From Californication

I hummed along and my head sung the lyrics, drumming my fingers on my tattered jeans. The guitar notes rung out clearly in my head. And I was okay.

-

I'm wondering if anyone but me has ever read these, oh well.

Lyrics Red Hot Chilli Peppers