Post by Christopher Blake on Mar 29, 2009 18:27:22 GMT -5
Trashed would be a good verb to describe how Christopher was feeling at the moment. A piece of trash, stepped on repeatedly. Everything hurt, so many of his senses were alive, and at the same moment dead. He felt nothing, yet he felt everything. That lingering burning in his throat from the drink, and now that sickening taste every time he inhaled the smoke from the cigarette. When had he gotten the cigarette anyway? He hated smoking. It was disgusting. Yet, there he was, stumbling through the park, sucking at the little stick like it was a matter of life or death. It was more of a mechanical thing though. Lift to lips, inhale, exhale, repeat. Easy enough to do.
He looked at the white cancer stick with a scowl reaching his lips. The only thing he could think of was Taro. Taro and his stupid face. His stupid smile and his stupid laugh. His stupid words, and his stupid hair. And those stupid soft hands and those stupid beautiful eyes...without much thought Chris found himself throwing the cigarette as far away from himself as possible. Taro hated smoking. he'd made Chris quit and then never want the stuff again. There were tears rolling down the boy's face. fresh new one's, burning, stinging.
With the back of his hand, Chris wiped away the tears angrily, only bringing more to his eyes. No matter how hard he tried it all came back to him. No matter how much he'd drunk, it was all still there. And...oh, oh dear.
Chris felt himself sway a little as he neared the park play set. Everything seemed to be spinning and his stomach, oh gods it felt like it was going to explode. Did he have an alien in there? Was it going to rip him up from the inside, killing him and wreaking havoc on the world?
No.
What did come out of Chris' stomach however, was all the contents he'd had in the past few hours. There he stood, hunched over a slide, throwing up the contents of his stomach onto the gravel. There was a putrid smell left behind that stung Chris' senses, and a raw feeling all along the inside of his throat. Along with a bitter taste that lingered on his tongue. Ugh, he hated being sick. But maybe he'd feel better if he just...just laid down. Right here. Mm, that was good. The cold metallic surface of the slide felt nice against his warm skin. Yeah this could...this could work. Just rest a little, wait out the spinning of the world and the spots.
And so, Christopher passed out, curled into himself at the bottom of a slide in a park. It was in the same position that he woke, feeling like shit, his head pounding away, and his entire body feeling as if it were on fire.
He moaned as he stood up, holding onto his head as he did so. It was cold out, he realized, trying to suppress a shiver. Ugh, and what was that smell? Looking over the side, what he'd left behind caught his eye and his nose. Chris felt himself involuntarily gag as his reflex kicked in. Jumping up, he covered his mouth and ran in the direction of the nearest garbage, not really making it and so instead opted to puke once more by a wooden bench.
Wiping away at the corner of his mouth, Chris stood up and looked around. Everything still seemed hazy, his mind still finding it hard to register exactly what he was doing or what he needed to do. God, how much had he had to drink? Slowly pieces of the night began to reach his mind. A bar, loud yelling, cheering, shots, and drinks after drinks from strangers.The bathroom with some guy, then a back alley, a car...? and an alley again. Ugh. God, he better had been paid for all that.
Right now he needed to get home. Taro would make him some tea and make him feel better and...Taro. Right. He couldn't go home. Taro didn't want anything to do with him, he thought bitterly. The jerk was fine alone. Didn't need any company. Didn't need Chris. And why couldn't they just be happy together? Why did there have to be so much drama? Not like the penguins. Oh no. The penguins had it made. No drama at all in the arctic. They found their mate, had babies and were set for life.
"Stupid penguins," he muttered. "Have the whole world served on a platter. Rainbows and smiles and everything. Well, you know what? The penguins can just go screw themselves!" He yelled angrily into the night. A dog began barking in response to his yelling which only made him more angry. "Yeah?! Well you can go jump off a bridge! See if I care!" He yelled in the direction of the dog. This in turn only gave him more barks and howls. "Oh! Real MATURE!" He said screaming now. "f**k YOU!"
He stood standing in the dark park, breathing heavily, dogs barking all around, the sound of sirens in the distance reaching him every now and then.
"Stupid dogs don't know when to shut up," he muttered, continuing to walk who knows where. "Stupid Taro doesn't know when to not be a jerk," he said a little more loudly. "Yeah that's right. I called Taro a jerk. Cause you know what, Taro, you are one! I never want to see your face again. In fact you can just leave. This is my apartment after all. I don't need you. I never did. I don't need your pity, go back to mommy and daddy and have a wonderful f**king life," he said speaking to himself. Though, that sounded good. Maybe when he went back to the apartment he would say that to Taro. Yeah. Tell him off good. That's what he needed. He didn't need Taro. Not at all.
"Taro..." he said quietly, feeling tears burning in his eyes again. Who was he kidding. One night without Taro and look what he'd done to himself. Drankn enough to leave him in a drunken stupor and had who knows how much of unprotected sex. He was hoplessly self destructive without the boy.
He looked at the white cancer stick with a scowl reaching his lips. The only thing he could think of was Taro. Taro and his stupid face. His stupid smile and his stupid laugh. His stupid words, and his stupid hair. And those stupid soft hands and those stupid beautiful eyes...without much thought Chris found himself throwing the cigarette as far away from himself as possible. Taro hated smoking. he'd made Chris quit and then never want the stuff again. There were tears rolling down the boy's face. fresh new one's, burning, stinging.
With the back of his hand, Chris wiped away the tears angrily, only bringing more to his eyes. No matter how hard he tried it all came back to him. No matter how much he'd drunk, it was all still there. And...oh, oh dear.
Chris felt himself sway a little as he neared the park play set. Everything seemed to be spinning and his stomach, oh gods it felt like it was going to explode. Did he have an alien in there? Was it going to rip him up from the inside, killing him and wreaking havoc on the world?
No.
What did come out of Chris' stomach however, was all the contents he'd had in the past few hours. There he stood, hunched over a slide, throwing up the contents of his stomach onto the gravel. There was a putrid smell left behind that stung Chris' senses, and a raw feeling all along the inside of his throat. Along with a bitter taste that lingered on his tongue. Ugh, he hated being sick. But maybe he'd feel better if he just...just laid down. Right here. Mm, that was good. The cold metallic surface of the slide felt nice against his warm skin. Yeah this could...this could work. Just rest a little, wait out the spinning of the world and the spots.
And so, Christopher passed out, curled into himself at the bottom of a slide in a park. It was in the same position that he woke, feeling like shit, his head pounding away, and his entire body feeling as if it were on fire.
He moaned as he stood up, holding onto his head as he did so. It was cold out, he realized, trying to suppress a shiver. Ugh, and what was that smell? Looking over the side, what he'd left behind caught his eye and his nose. Chris felt himself involuntarily gag as his reflex kicked in. Jumping up, he covered his mouth and ran in the direction of the nearest garbage, not really making it and so instead opted to puke once more by a wooden bench.
Wiping away at the corner of his mouth, Chris stood up and looked around. Everything still seemed hazy, his mind still finding it hard to register exactly what he was doing or what he needed to do. God, how much had he had to drink? Slowly pieces of the night began to reach his mind. A bar, loud yelling, cheering, shots, and drinks after drinks from strangers.The bathroom with some guy, then a back alley, a car...? and an alley again. Ugh. God, he better had been paid for all that.
Right now he needed to get home. Taro would make him some tea and make him feel better and...Taro. Right. He couldn't go home. Taro didn't want anything to do with him, he thought bitterly. The jerk was fine alone. Didn't need any company. Didn't need Chris. And why couldn't they just be happy together? Why did there have to be so much drama? Not like the penguins. Oh no. The penguins had it made. No drama at all in the arctic. They found their mate, had babies and were set for life.
"Stupid penguins," he muttered. "Have the whole world served on a platter. Rainbows and smiles and everything. Well, you know what? The penguins can just go screw themselves!" He yelled angrily into the night. A dog began barking in response to his yelling which only made him more angry. "Yeah?! Well you can go jump off a bridge! See if I care!" He yelled in the direction of the dog. This in turn only gave him more barks and howls. "Oh! Real MATURE!" He said screaming now. "f**k YOU!"
He stood standing in the dark park, breathing heavily, dogs barking all around, the sound of sirens in the distance reaching him every now and then.
"Stupid dogs don't know when to shut up," he muttered, continuing to walk who knows where. "Stupid Taro doesn't know when to not be a jerk," he said a little more loudly. "Yeah that's right. I called Taro a jerk. Cause you know what, Taro, you are one! I never want to see your face again. In fact you can just leave. This is my apartment after all. I don't need you. I never did. I don't need your pity, go back to mommy and daddy and have a wonderful f**king life," he said speaking to himself. Though, that sounded good. Maybe when he went back to the apartment he would say that to Taro. Yeah. Tell him off good. That's what he needed. He didn't need Taro. Not at all.
"Taro..." he said quietly, feeling tears burning in his eyes again. Who was he kidding. One night without Taro and look what he'd done to himself. Drankn enough to leave him in a drunken stupor and had who knows how much of unprotected sex. He was hoplessly self destructive without the boy.
