What Do You Want From Me?
Nobody's Home
“You got the stuff?”
“Nah, dude, the question is do you have my money?”
“Oh course I have the money; here.”
The buzzed out teen reached into his pocket and pulled out a bunch of wrinkled bills, quickly handing them over to his dealer and continuing to tremble in his movements. Withdrawal...
“All right, here you go, kid. Knock yourself out,” The drug dealer spoke again, handing over to the other a little baggy containing a white substance. He snatched it out of the dealer’s hands dramatically, and took off running in the opposite direction. “Yeah, you’re welcome!” The dealer shouted after the fleeing guy.
Matthew Sanders turned on his heel, and began a pursuit back to his car. In his head, he recollected that it was always times like these that he wished he had a line of his own, which was definitely a tough thing to admit considering he had decided a couple months prior to cut back on the hardcore stuff. Things in the Sanders household haven’t exactly been okay lately, in fact, they were worse than ever, and this is the main reason for the downfall he was feeling begin to form deep inside.
The phone residing in Matt’s pocket began to vibrate, interrupting his destructive thoughts, and he gripped the steering wheel tighter with his left hand, arching his back up and using the other hand to pull it out of his pocket.
“Yeah,” He answered.
“Matthew.”
“What,” Matt sighed exceedingly at the drunken voice practically spitting at him through the speaker.
“Did you get my vodka?”
“Yes, mother, I got your precious vodka.”
“Don’t talk to me like that! Where the hell are you, anyway?”
“I’m on my way home now, ma, so can you let me go?”
“Fine, but hurry the fuck up. I’m almost done with my glass and I don’t want to have to start in on the rum because that’s for special occasions when I don’t have anymore vodka left.”
“That’s very interesting, ma. I’ll be right home, bye.”
He hung up quickly and threw his phone on the seat next to him. There was absolutely no doubt in Matt’s mind that his mother was going to be the death of him. He pounded his fist against the steering wheel in absolute fury, and it took all he could possibly give to not start screaming his lungs out. Matt hated his mother. He hated her, and it ate at him more and more every day that he didn’t just run far, far away from there and never look back. He’s had his chances to go, but it seemed that every time he had the opening, something always held him back, stopped him, told him to just stay put and wait it out.
“Thanks,” The alcoholic woman seethed at Matt as she took the bottle out of his hands.
“Mhm,” He grumbled back, turning and walking to the stairs to head up to his room.
Matt rolled a joint and lit it up the moment he was settled into his bed, taking long drags of it and taking his sweet time blowing them back out. The smoke hit Matt’s nostrils and stung at his eyes with malicious intent. It made him tear slightly, and he knew it wasn’t just from the smoke.
“Fuck my life.”
“Nah, dude, the question is do you have my money?”
“Oh course I have the money; here.”
The buzzed out teen reached into his pocket and pulled out a bunch of wrinkled bills, quickly handing them over to his dealer and continuing to tremble in his movements. Withdrawal...
“All right, here you go, kid. Knock yourself out,” The drug dealer spoke again, handing over to the other a little baggy containing a white substance. He snatched it out of the dealer’s hands dramatically, and took off running in the opposite direction. “Yeah, you’re welcome!” The dealer shouted after the fleeing guy.
Matthew Sanders turned on his heel, and began a pursuit back to his car. In his head, he recollected that it was always times like these that he wished he had a line of his own, which was definitely a tough thing to admit considering he had decided a couple months prior to cut back on the hardcore stuff. Things in the Sanders household haven’t exactly been okay lately, in fact, they were worse than ever, and this is the main reason for the downfall he was feeling begin to form deep inside.
The phone residing in Matt’s pocket began to vibrate, interrupting his destructive thoughts, and he gripped the steering wheel tighter with his left hand, arching his back up and using the other hand to pull it out of his pocket.
“Yeah,” He answered.
“Matthew.”
“What,” Matt sighed exceedingly at the drunken voice practically spitting at him through the speaker.
“Did you get my vodka?”
“Yes, mother, I got your precious vodka.”
“Don’t talk to me like that! Where the hell are you, anyway?”
“I’m on my way home now, ma, so can you let me go?”
“Fine, but hurry the fuck up. I’m almost done with my glass and I don’t want to have to start in on the rum because that’s for special occasions when I don’t have anymore vodka left.”
“That’s very interesting, ma. I’ll be right home, bye.”
He hung up quickly and threw his phone on the seat next to him. There was absolutely no doubt in Matt’s mind that his mother was going to be the death of him. He pounded his fist against the steering wheel in absolute fury, and it took all he could possibly give to not start screaming his lungs out. Matt hated his mother. He hated her, and it ate at him more and more every day that he didn’t just run far, far away from there and never look back. He’s had his chances to go, but it seemed that every time he had the opening, something always held him back, stopped him, told him to just stay put and wait it out.
“Thanks,” The alcoholic woman seethed at Matt as she took the bottle out of his hands.
“Mhm,” He grumbled back, turning and walking to the stairs to head up to his room.
Matt rolled a joint and lit it up the moment he was settled into his bed, taking long drags of it and taking his sweet time blowing them back out. The smoke hit Matt’s nostrils and stung at his eyes with malicious intent. It made him tear slightly, and he knew it wasn’t just from the smoke.
“Fuck my life.”
This story is so good! I really hope you'll update this even though it's been a while since the last update ):
3/5/17