I woke up with the taste of cigarettes in my mouth. Groggily, I looked at the clock (8:13 AM), rubbed my eyes, and flipped over onto my stomach, burying my face in the pillow to avoid the sunlight. I lay like that until I needed to come up for air. Then I grabbed my cell phone and turned it on for the first time in 20 hours. Seven new text messages. Four from Marcus and three from my mom. Not something I wanted to deal with immediately after waking up. Strange to think that only 24 hours ago I was physically wrestling my brother to the floor, begging him to take his belt off his arm and to give me his syringe.
Marcus’ texts are as followed:
“1:06 PM – Sophia I’m sorry. I know you woke up and caught me in a compromising position, but I barely mess with that shit. You have to believe me, I just broke up with my girlfriend and had a terrible night.
1:43 PM – Have you left for good? I swear everything will go back to normal if you would please come back.
Marcus’ texts are as followed:
“1:06 PM – Sophia I’m sorry. I know you woke up and caught me in a compromising position, but I barely mess with that shit. You have to believe me, I just broke up with my girlfriend and had a terrible night.
1:43 PM – Have you left for good? I swear everything will go back to normal if you would please come back.