I opened my eyes slowly and cursed at the thumping coming from my head and the light hurting my eyes. I looked over at the red digital clock, with the green fluorescent writing that burned my eyes. Being awake earlier than two, now that was a surprise. I tried to sit up but gave up as I realised, my hangover was just too bad.
I sometimes wondered why I did this too myself all the time, drinking myself to unconsciousness. Then I would remember that I was a lonely and horny twenty-three year old male who had no family to speak of and little no friends left either. As I tried to shake off the effects of my alcohol induced slumber, I wished for just a moment that my mother had not been such a bitch and my father had actually cared about me. I groaned and fell back onto my pillow, covering my face in the hope that I would fall asleep again.
~~
Flowers didn't symbolise peace, nor make someone feel loved and beautiful when they received when they were given and they certainly did not pass with someone onto the next life, that was utter bullshit. Yet here these pathetic people were, weeping for people they held in contempt, refused to aid when they most needed help and treated as if they had no right to even belong there.
A single tear slid down my cheek which I quickly wiped away, I refused to let these people see me weep or lose my cool; I would not let that happen. I took my turn at the three coffins sitting before me. I touched my mothers' coffin and remembered with clarity, the feeling of her lips upon my nose when she kissed my nose every night tucking me into my bed, the smell of her freshly washed hair, and the way she would always look at you with a small smile when you had done something wrong. I took a deep breath and moved to my fathers' coffin, I remembered when I was little, he would smoke a pipe out on the front porch on a Sunday night while he sat with my brother and I. I remembered that he would always come on a Sunday night with mum and tuck me into bed, I could always smell the tobacco on him and his scruffy beard would tickly my nose and cheek when he kissed me goodnight.
My brothers' coffin was the last before me, I had the same grey-blue eyes as he did, he was three years older than me as well, he was calm and collected and never smiled, except for me. I remembered in primary school he would always sit with me and make sure the bullies wouldn't come and pull the piggy tails that mum would do for me each morning. I remembered when I was seven he started taking me to martial arts classes so we would be able to defend ourselves, like when I was seventeen, he chaperoned me to a party where he broke Harry Morrises' nose because he grabbed my breast.
We always used to practice together as well, we made a good team because we were in tune to each other and able to feel the others next move, we always aimed to be able to fight together without either being a weak link.
I failed him though. I was the weak link, while I was at the diner serving manner lacking pigs, they were being murdered. It had been two months since that incident. I had not once smiled, not laughed, not gone to work, not done anything but sit in the house with my eyes closed trying to figure out what to do next. I had lost the only reason for my existence. I had no family, only a few friends that lived in the country.
I turned around and walked from the church, leaving those pathetic people to their pathetic lives. It wasn't as if my family was even in those coffins, their remains were too ruined to be placed in those coffins, they had been cut into small pieces and their killer had already been found. I got into my car and sped out of the park and towards my house, the house was being organised for rental to the few friends our family had left. My few belongings were currently being packed into three small suitcases and with the rent money and money left by my parents, I was planning on a trip into the country, to move in with my friends from martial arts and help them teach the kids.
Right now though, I wanted alcohol, and dark place to feel sorry for myself, but I had work to do.
~~
A feeling of dread ran across me as I stepped through the club door, it was a regular place that I visited and I quite often picked up a one night stand and drank till I was unconscious. Tonight, something was feeling wrong, I tried to shake off that feeling and so I grabbed a rum and coke, minus the coke of course. I downed that in just a second and ordered a new one quickly.
"Jay! Bro, you like, totally came, like, Shamus, he totally didn't think that you would totally not come cause you were totally wasted and gone Friday night."
Michael was a stoner, his eyes were constantly red and his face pale white as if he painted his face white every time he went out. I would drink till I was off my face drunk, just like I planned to do tonight, but never, never would I ever take drugs, I just couldn't do that to my body.
