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Tsurai hmphed.
"To be honest, I don't think you could handle having a kid, Isiah. Even after I was fifteen, taking care of one was way over my head."

But that was probably because she was retarded, he thought to himself. Immensly so.

"I'm going for a walk."

Tsurai groaned as he stood up, all the little aches and pains finally bringing themselves to attention.

Tsurai would've shoved his hands in his pockets, but he was still wearing Isiah's boxers, and, one hand he wasn't going to dare move for a long while.
Opening the door, he silently walked out and closed it behind him, instantly spotting the dirty needle and picking up before meandering aimlessly, looking at the sky.

That was, before he bumped into somebody who was doing the same thing.

"s**t, I'm sorry," Tsurai quickly said, looking at the man.

"Don't worry about it," the man who was hunching over said.
"You know, you shouldn't be wearing shorts, in times like this... You'll get cancer." The old man looked up into Tsurai's eyes. The face of the man was god awful looking.
Eyes were sunken inside of swollen cheeks and... Just disgusting.

"I-I'm used to it," Tsurai forced, trying not to stare too much.

"I couldn't happen noticing what you had in your hand..." The man grabbed it, letting it brush beneath his nose as he sniffed it intently, like some hungry dog.

"Ahhh... Morphine. Do you have any more?" Tsurai swallowed and stood stark still when the man grabbed his... Thankfully... Left arm, examining the inside of his elbow, fingering old bruises with a dirty hand.

Tsurai winced. "You haven't shot up in a while... So why the needle in your hand...? Secret stash? Or was it... Your OTHER arm..."
The old man rushed over to it, pulling it to examine the same old bruises. Tsurai called out as his legs shook, but tried to keep his body mostly steady while he winced for the man.
"Still nothing. Was it for a friend? Where did you get it? That needle is fresh, why aren't you..?"

Tsurai's shoulder was spasming again. "Please, mister... Let go of the arm and I'll tell you..."

A great sigh of relief came over the boy when the stranger did as asked.
"I found it on the ground, you see. The... The man who used it died the other day..." Gods, his arm was still throbbing. Why did the man have to go pulling on it?

"The man in the chest? Simon?" Tsurai took a step back.
"You.. You know him..?" Tsurai had to be careful, though. Druggers where very dangerous people... It was better to just do what they wanted then to try and run away.

"Yes. The b*****d stole my secret stash! I'm glad he died. I just wished it would've been a more painful death!"
Tsurai's brow twitched.

"Are you... In withdrawl, Old man...?" God, if he was, that would make everything worse. Tsurai'd never be able to get away from the guy.

"Yes I am. Because of that b*****d. How did you know he died the other day?" The man got closer to Tsurai, and the smell of him was putrid. It was an aquired smell, and Tsurai didn't like it. It brought his own addictions back.

"I... Uh..." Tsurai was stammering. The smell was getting a little too good.

"Are you getting off on my clothes?!" the old man hissed.

Tsurai snapped back to reality. "N-no. Of course not. Why would I.." The man yanked on Tsurai's bad arm, and the boy painfully fell down to a knee.

"So you KNOW about Simon's death? Tell me about the b*****d who killed him! That man owed me!" Tsurai felt like he was gonna faint.

Suddenly, that breaking in half s**t with Denziens didn't seem too far away. Even if the old man wasn't a Denzien. He was a Drug addict. But it began with a D. It was close enough.

"I.. I know the man who killed... Ahh... Please, sir, quit touching the arm!"

"You smell like Simon," the old man hissed. "Tell me who killed him!"
The old man kept yanking on Tsurai's arm to prove a point. God forbid his aches and pains.

"I-I.. Don't... Know his name" Tsurai struggled.

"Bullshit! You know!"

Tsurai didn't want to do anything in self defense.. But he was in too much pain.. And in a lose-lose situation with the killing, that he couldn't think of any other way to get out of this.

Tsurai's left hand clutched the old man's throat and squeezed. Hard. But Tsurai was so weak he fell down ontop of the man.
But they wouldn't let go of eachother.

The man still had Tsurai's arm, and Tsurai still had the man's throat.
"Let my arm... Go..." Tsurai struggled to say.

Of course, now that Tsurai was ontop of the druggy, his dogtags were dangling in the deranged moonlight. And they, of course, were blank.

The man had a look of surprize, but then insane delight. He smiled and with his hands let go of Tsurai's arm.

He got a gun, instead, and put it to Tsurai's head.

"Give them..." He said in that choking hoarse, cocking the gun weakly.

That... Smell...

The eighteen year old let out a loud roar as he shoved the man's head at an awkward angle, breaking his neck.

The gun fell to the ground. Tsurai, panting, looked in the barrel of the gun. The first slot was empty. The others were full of tiny plastic bags.

Tsurai fell ontop of the man, relishing his smell and pulling out what were obviously drugs from the barrel of the shotgun. Two were crack. The other two... He could place his finger on what it was called, but he knew what it was by the smell.

Tsurai gulped the air and took all of the bags in his fist, clenching them tightly while he laid on the old man's chest.

"Gotta get up..." he said aloud to himself, trying to will himself to do so.
"Longer you sit here, the harder it will be to leave..." He told himself.

His body wasn't moving. He liked the smell too much.

Well. Maybe Isiah would've heard him yell. But for now.. He was just gonna...

Lay here and...

Fall asleep in that really... Nice.. smell...

[[arrg, whenever you go offline, I always make my posts super long. Slap me next time I do that! stressed ]]

Tsurai awoke ontop of Isiah and started coughing.
"I-I can walk.. Put me down...!" he hoarsed, pushing away from the man and almost falling to his behind when free of Isiah.

Tsurai, after gaining his balance, put his hand over his groaning chest.
"I've... Got nothing there," he explained. "From throwing up so much, it hurts when you do that." Tsurai looked down at his fist, which still held the tiny bags, and then wiped his face.

"I can't believe this," he thought to himself as he slowly followed Isiah back to the house. "You just finished talking about how you HATE drugs, and then you're drawn to that guy like a ******** magnet! Good going."

"I'm so pathetic," he grumbled aloud.
Then he realized he didn't think it, and felt like he had to explain himself.
"I-I mean... I froze up. He put a gun to my head and after it happened, I-I just. Froze."

Tsurai hit his forehead with his fist when he walked through the door.
"Sorry. God, I don't know why I'm stammering so much. I-I just..."
Tsurai sat down on the bed and hit his forehead again with his fist.
"I'm an idiot. I shouldn't have walked off. God, I screw up everything. I'm sorry. A-and.. I fell ontop of him and I just froze up. The gun wasn't even loaded. ******** eighteen year old laid on his back, feet still on the floor.
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he wondered how long he could keep such a death grip on the drugs. His hand was getting tired, and he didn't want Isiah to find out about them.
He wished he had pockets. He wanted his pants back.

"I'm sorry. Just. Damnit. Sorry. I had a feeling that gun wasn't loaded but I didn't check until after I killed him. I should've trusted my gut. But the guy was... Wouldn't stop pulling on my arm and talking about morphine. And he smelled like it. And it totally ******** me up. I'm so..."

Why the hell was he even apologizing so profusely? It seemed like he just couldn't make his mouth close. And he was trying to keep attention on him so maybe Isiah wouldn't look at Tsurai's fist so much.

Not that Isiah was even paying attention to it at all, but Tsurai was doubting himself and why he had picked it all up in the first place, so trying to lie well was increasingly hard if you weren't secure with what you were lying about.

"So... SO. Sorry. I didn't mean to kill the man. I mean. I don't know know what I meant for. H-he was screwing me up with t-the pain, and his smell. A-and then I froze. God, I'm an idiot."

Tsurai wouldn't shut up until Isiah interrupted him.

Damnit. Tsurai sighed.

"I... Uh... Punched the guy first, so hard, that my... Muscles locked in place. Sorry."

Stupid, stupid stupid, lie! There weren't any bruises on the body. Isiah's gonna beat my a**...

"well, you're stronger than I am..!"

Tsurai turned away, which, since he was lying on his back, was unfortunetly on his bad arm. He let out a whine and immediately pushed himself up, dropping the four bags of drugs on the floor.

"I feel so stupid." Tsurai murmered.

Tsurai sighed. "I wasn't going to do it."

Tsurai let his weight fall ontop of Isiah, and leaned against the man's shoulder. "I was too sidetracked by the man's morphine smell to do anything. I thought I was over this. Ugh, I hate this. I'm sorry for being such a... " He tried to think of a word to explain himself.
What was it...

"Attention whore."

Tsurai sat back up straight, he didn't want to lay on Isiah while his shoulders were shaking all over the place.

"Pah. I'm nothing good to look at anyway. Besides."
He tried to be as lighthearted about it as Isiah, but he wasn't doing too well. Inwardly, anyway.

"The attention whores of YOUR time probably only took their clothes off just so you'd copy them. Your d**k's so huge it's got it own climate down there."
He started laughing, then abruptly stopped. Both from pain and realization of what he had just said.

Man, those facts are just really piling up, aren't they?

Tsurai shook his head like a wet dog and putt his now pale face in his hand.
"Uh... Sorry..."

"Oh, SO huge it has it's own CLIMATE. GOOD ONE. No really. It's almost as good as 'i'd like to see you fight'. Idiot."

He fell on his back again.
"Trying. Failing. Even if I could sleep, which I doubt I could get to, My gut hurts too much to do anything."

That whole statement didn't make much sense.

"What I mean is. I'm so sore everywhere that I can't. Aside from the fact that I'm not tired. God, I'm so hungry. But I don't want to eat anything because I'm afraid I'll just puke it back up. Again. It's like a curse. Everytime I eat something, I puke it up a few hours later. And I don't want you shoving my face in it again..." He shuddered.

"Disgusting."