((It will never DIIIIIEEEEE!!!!))
Lenten traipsed across the black sand out in front of the bar, drunk as ********, more or less like her narrator, her wide, silver, wings spread behind, although they seemed of no particular value for once. "******** you, you pieces of s**t, I thought you were supposed to give me some sort of ******** or some s**t?!" She cursed into the wind as she stumbled, thrusting her fist at some nameless God. "******** bullshit." She spit into aforementioned wind, only to have the wetness thrown back into her face. "Ugh." She wiped the drool from her face with a disgusted sneer.
"Fuuuuccck yoooouuu, Charlie!!" She threw her hands to the sky as she screamed, covering herself with another thick layer of saliva, her red curls frizzing under the influence of the ocean waves. She no longer cared. How could he steal her baby, their baby, away from her? Even for moment. He belonged to her. She had pushed that screaming, crying, spawn into their existence. And of course, what the ******** would he do with some half breed of a half breed child? She didn't even want to contemplate. Nor did she particularly have to. Eventually she would get clean... again... come home... again... be a family...again. Not now though. Now she couldn't even begin to rationalize that possibility.
Was that a come down down she felt? She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, or to scramble them, thoughts of her red-headed angel, images of their perfect, winged babe swirling, although he was no baby no more. He had started school this past year. Dumb, pathetic, mortal school. She kicked the foamy waves and cursed the mundane bullshit that her life had become.
She slapped at her veins impatiently. That would reinvigorate the high, right?! Her head rattled as she tried to shake the blood behind her eyes. The haze of indifference was beginning to lift, quite frankly, that was the last thing she wanted. She threw her tri-colered gaze in the direction of the now derelict bar on the beach.
It looked like s**t.
But that didn't mean there wasn't something decent stashed inside still, even after so much time had passed. She staggered her way toward the building, standing strong beneath sand and detritus, the magic made sure of that. The bar may have been half-way buried in the dunes, but that didn't mean there was any less opportunity inside.
She stooped into the now derelict building, her jaw going slack as she took in the sad scene. How did things of happiness crumble so? She made her way behind the bar, a wry smirk settling on her face. Some things still never changed. iZac was there, waiting patiently. "Make me something delicious, barkeep" She joked, although she had no doubt he would. She made her way back into the kitchen, where she moved to the back corner and slid the bottom, corner drawer all the way open.
The smile wider across her face as she felt the particular sting of a needle against her forefinger. No, things had not changed that much she thought, reaching back further for a deteriorated bag of brown, and her burnt spoon. "******** you." She ripped a nonfunctional belt from around her waist, tightening it against her forearm, white teeth drawing the leather firmly across her veins, even as she held a lighter, amber liquid bubbling. It was a well-practiced motion.
A deep inhale, followed by a harsh push of the syringe punched her veins full of relief. Her head lolled back, plush lips parting in a sigh of relief. Or agony. Slender hands traced along her neck, feeling the rush of blood and drugs pump beneath her fingertips, divine. She inhaled sharply, her exhales long and drawn out. Relief, finally. She knew it hadn't been long since she had tangled with the dark stallion... but God did she need it. She knew Charlie did too, although he preferred to ride a pony of a different colour.
How did he do it? How was he the father he was? She supposed it was different time periods, different upbringings, different moral aptitude.
She slunk out to the bar once more, laying her empty syringe on the counter. Her drink was ready. "Thanks, old fellow, I really needed this." Her words were slow and slurred as she raised the drink to the sky in appreciation before sampling iZac's concoction. One thing felt certain, how had she ever bought into the fact she could raise a child with him? With his Mother? How had she tricked herself into such a masquerade for so long?
With a note of clarity she realized how relieved she was for the fullness of the bag she had left behind.