𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ➀

2 URGES

I throw open the heavy church doors and launch myself from the building as fast as I can. I jog down the seemingly never-ending steps with my hands stuffed inside my pockets.  All I want is to get away from this building that is filled with nothing but hypocrisy and avid disappointment.

Yeah, just get me the fuck away from here. 

Let me just go back to my shit show of a life where I can wallow in whatever it is that I wallow in. Alcohol, amphetamines, sex, and escapades of petty theft? Oh, that's right, those are the ones. Fucking ding ding, Johnny! We've got a winner!

I am practically racing to my truck right now. Yeah, that black two door thing that screams douche bag all over it. Yeah, that's my truck. I tear open the handle and climb into the driver's seat with an audible sigh of relief as I slam the door shut. 

Fuck me. I, and now the cab of my truck, smell like the Virgin Mary herself. Oh, and Tasha's cheap perfume. I reach into my center console and practically bathe myself in my cologne like it's holy water. I roll down my window to alleviate the coughing fit before it happens.  I'm one fucking step away from choking on manufactured fragrance and Catholicism.

It's not that I don't like the catholic church, no wait, I don't like it one bit. I'm not a believer in anything that sets limits, guidelines, or expectations. To be honest, I genuinely hate the idea of anyone lording over me in any type of way. I had grown up in the church, part of the perfect family. What a fucking joke that was.

I'm my own fucking man now and at twenty-five years of age I don't need to pretend to be anything. I am who I am and I'm completely fine with being a compulsive prick 99.9% of the time. Wait, scratch that, 100% of the time. I'd rather be a compulsive prick than a fake person who puts a filter on their mouth and pretends to be something they're not.

People tend to think I'm rather obnoxious. Here's a newsflash, this obnoxious prick does not give one single fuck. One. Single. Fuck. Unless you're a woman looking to be properly dicked down, then by all means, I have a fuck to give. If someone is worth my time maybe several fucks even. Maybe. But the chances are they're probably not.

The night air is refreshing as it blows through my hair. It washes away all the previous horrid stenches. I see my destination and pull into the parking lot with a quick jerk of the wheel.  I need this so fucking bad right now. I just want to feel something.  Fuck, I just want to feel anything. Even if it that thing results in a black out and terrible hang over.

Tiffany's blow job was decent but the after effect has worn off. Now, after all the feel good brain chemicals have faded away, I'm left with the low. I can't fucking stand the lows. So, why not get lower? Why not completely drown, right? Because my logic makes perfect fucking sense, I know.

I grab a handle of my favorite whiskey. Yeah, a handle, or, in other words, a large enough bottle that needs a handle so you can carry it. I make my way over to the smug-looking clerk and toss the bottle on the counter. I ignore the fat bastard's smirk.  Yeah, I know this is my fifth time here in two weeks. Go fuck yourself, buddy.  If only this guy knew how much shit I steal from him on a regular basis he wouldn't be wearing that shit eating grin.

After I make my purchase I'm in my truck once again. The drive home is probably one of  the longest rides of my life because the only thing I want to do right now is guzzle the bottle in the passenger seat.  Yes, I'm aware I have a problem and no, I don't fucking care.  Not one little bit, not even at all.

I pull into my parking lot and haphazardly park my vehicle in its designated spot.  I launch the door open with whiskey in hand and no, I don't have a bag. This is why I always get the handle. I grab my pack of cigarettes too before I kick my leg back to slam the truck door shut. 

I look up at the brick building where I live as I trudge my way inside.  It's not much. It's actually pretty fucking shit if you ask me. At least the rent is decent. Rent. Fuck, that's going to be due soon.  I look down at the bottle in my hand and am glad I will have a distraction from life's stresses this evening. 

I open the door and take the stairs two at a time.  Once I get to the top I hear the voice of perfection. And no I'm not talking about my own.  I can't help but stop myself momentarily to listen.

"Dad, it's fine. I'm fine, don't worry. Seriously, I have the rent for this month."  She continues to plead into the phone. "No, no.  I said I'm fine. Just take care of yourself, okay?"

Monica.  Monica fucking Cavalieri. 

She's been my neighbor for the past six months that I've lived in this shit hole. She moved in about two months after me. I had made a brilliant first impression when the girl that I had just fucked into oblivion ran out of my apartment screaming obscenities directed at yours truly. In my defense though, she wanted to cuddle. I don't cuddle.  I am not the type of man to relish in anyone's skin against mine unless it's pleasure inducing and no, snuggling and cuddling is not something pleasant for me.  Just the thought of it makes me internally cringe.  Just no.

Anyway, back to the fucking point. Sara? Samantha? I don't remember. It was something with an 'S'. Well, she'd run out of my place basically half naked and directly into Monica. How do I know this?  Because I was telling her that the next time she wanted to fuck to go choke on someone else's dick.  Yes, I'm pretty sure those were the exact words I had used. Although, in my defense, I wasn't entirely lucid at the time.

The one thing I do remember perfectly was the mask of shock and horror all over Monica's face. She'd stood there with a box of her belongings strewn all over the floor.  She'd stared in bewilderment at a fast retreating Sasha? Her wide amber-colored eyes had told me this was not something she was accustomed to. No, she wasn't used to it like I was and still am.

That's when she'd looked at me with her face blossoming into the most beautiful shade of crimson.  So. Fucking. Beautiful.  I had wanted her so bad right then and there. I had had to instantly cup myself thinking about all the things I would've liked to do to make her face that shade over and over again.  I wanted to hear her screaming my name at the top of her lungs in ways that no other man had made her scream before. 

Sean! Sean! Sean! Like my own personal cheerleader.

She had instantly covered her eyes in apology after she had already ogled me for a good minute or so.  Her milk chocolate colored waves created a shield around her face as she had looked down in embarrassment.  That's the moment I looked down and realized I had nothing on but a pair of boxer briefs. I was also sporting a nice sized semi as well. 

Why I did what I did next I'll never know. Because I'm not the type to care. Nope. I've never given a flying fuck about anyone much less about their belongings or feelings. 

I'd stepped out into the hallway not giving a single fuck that I was in my underwear. I didn't say anything as I'd started putting her belongings back into the box. I remember feeling her gaze on me every now and then until I had finished picking up her things.  The majority of which consisted of paperback novels. She was a nerd, a nerd that was sexy as fuck.  I'd uttered my name and she'd uttered hers. We'd made a quick acquaintance and then she'd disappeared into the apartment directly across from mine.

I had stood there just staring at her door thinking about how one day I would fuck her senseless. One day I would ruin her for all other men, if not ruin her completely, because that's just what I do. I damage things beyond repair. I break everything I touch into tiny little fragments because it's what I'm good at.