The Addicted Roundup Chap.3

Glenn

One drop a day keeps the pain away

"Go look for some food Glenn.." 

"Why me, I already did yesterdayyy" I fake pouted as I slowly open the tent's door, a joint laying limply on my lips.

"You know why." My father turned his dirty bearded head to mine, a stern look on his face. His expression saying more than words could.

"Alright, alright. So strict on this, jeez." I slowly pocket the joint as I start to get out.

I grabbed my sweater from inside the tent, and I slipped on my combat boots. Kissing my father's dirty forehead as I walk by "I'll be back soon then pops" I kept my lips near his head, staying a moment longer, breathing in the smell of dirt and sweat, you get used to it after awhile, being homeless and all. He nodded and turned his head back to the bonfire, keeping his hands near to stay warm. 

I walked across the other tents, the other people. We struggle, but we're happy, some of us. I fucking hate my life, I always have, but it doesn't matter now, I have more important matters at hand than some stupid feelings.

I trip on someone's foot. "Watch it!" I heard a gurgling voice yell at me as I fall forward, landing on the rocky pavement, I felt my knee scrape a layer of skin off. I winced slightly, but I said nothing. I got up once again, adjusting my sweater and walking on.

The alley is dark, and musty. I walk methodically further into the dark corner of the town. The part they leave out maps, the type of place people come to ruin their lives. I hear bikes in the background but I don't bother turning my head, they're not important to my plan.

I feel a sharp twist on my back, knocking me forward, the pain feels brutal. I hear my shirt and jacket get ripped through. It feels as if my skin got ripped off my back with a single pull as I fall to the floor, the pain entering my own flesh as my skin peels off, I hear the sound of my ribs snapping and cracking lightly with the slosh of blood and bone as I scream my lungs out, the pressure unbearable against my open flesh. The pain slowly drags upwards between my shoulder blades, as it rips more of my skin off only to dig in further, struggling under the pressure, I feel my eyes roll upwards at the agony as my own blood colours my now pale face, my screams cutting off as the sound of my back being torn apart fills the alley. 

The pain suddenly stops, the pressure being removed off my back, I take heavy breaths as I feel my own lungs exposed, feeling the cold air. I breath in as if air was just invented, as I feel every breath I take, every beat my heart makes, I feel my blood pooling out around me as it squirts out in little places.

Thank god for that weed keeping me alive.

I feel hands grab my shoulder pulling me upwards. Wrapping something nice and comfy around my waist, wincing as the feeling tightens slightly.

"holy shit.. oh my god.. what do I do!? are you okay!?" 

I look up, barely turning my head to see a boy not much younger than me holding me by my side, he had ruffled greyish hair, grey and green mixed eyes, and his face is splashed with my blood and bits of my flesh, his nose scrunched in worry.

I grumbled in response. my throat dry and tired. 

I feel him pick me up with light struggle, and I hear his footsteps turn frantic, he's running, I groan and wince as the injuries get rubbed, slowly blacking out. 

I come too once again, and the last thing I feel is dirt getting piled over me, and yelling before blacking out, maybe for good.