I... HAHAHAHA shouldn't be starting a new story. I just don't know anymore. In case you were wondering... it's not incest. It's just eventual slash. And I'm still writing at four in the morning... go me. All of the chapter titles will be random songs off of my playlist. This one just so happens to be a song by From First To Last. Enjoy.

-o-

Track 1 - The Latest Plague

They'll tell you that you're going to die from smoking, in an attempt to get you to stop because tobacco companies own the souls and wallets of a quarter of the people in the united States. What they neglect to tell you is that you could die another number of ways, ones that aren't your fault. You could suddenly develop some form of cancer that only gives you a few months to live. You could be shot for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. A drunk driver could run a red light and smash in to your car, killing you on impact.

The truth is, you're going to die. One way or another, death is where you end up.

Ha. Who wants to live longer than necessary, anyway?

My own prefered brand of lung poison is Djarum, particularly Djarum Black. What? You expected a Marlboro smoker? Well, I'll tell you what. I hate Marlboro. I smoke cloves because they last longer and taste better than that horse shit they call Marlboro.

My deepest apologies to the smokers who can stomach Marlboros. I don't mean to offend you.

Yes I do.

I sit down at the computer and pull the last cigarette out of the pack near it, wasting no time in lighting it and taking a deep drag. I hardly have to worry about my mom caring anymore. She's so wasted out of her mind I could be smoking pot and fucking a guy in front of her and she'd still have the same zoned out look on her face.

I really resent that look.

I don't really like computers, on second thought. I pull open the door to the balcony instead and sit on a chair, inhaling and exhaling the smoke mechanically. It's already half way through summer break. Coming to that conclusion depresses me. I always get annoyed and frustrated during school, because I can't have a cigarette whenever I really need it.

I'm only a little bit addicted, I swear.

My utterly fat cat, Domino, hops up on to my lap, looking at me with a pleading look. Mom must have forgotten to feed him. Mom must have forgotten to get out of bed. Mom must have forgotten she has a son who asked her to make sure his cat doesn't starve. Nothing too out of the ordinary.

Thoughtful, I scratch softly behind his ears. He purrs and nuzzles my hand. A horrid noise reaches my ears, and I can only make an assumption as to what it was. I look Domino in the eye. "Did your stomach just growl?"

He blinks at me innocently.

"Right. C'mon, fatass," I grumble, picking him up and leaving my almost finished cigarette in the ashtray. "Son of a bitch, you're pretty heavy. Maybe it wouldn't hurt for you to skip a couple of meals after all."

I set him down in the kitchen and fill his food bowl. I sit down afterwards and play with his bushy tail while he eats, successfully annoying him. I mock him for his squished face briefly, before realizing that he's a cat and I'm pathetic.

I'm suddenly aware of a sharp pain in my ear and looked blankly at the telephone on the floor, then at my mother. When did she get here? And I register something. The telephone hit my head. My mom threw the telephone. She looks pissed. I have the instict to run away and hide, but I put a hand to my aching head and watch her. She breathes heavily, wheezing and coughing.

"You ungrateful bastard," she murmurs, looking me in the eye. "You have no idea what kind of trouble you're in."

Did I forget to give her money for booze? Did I forget to do the laundry? I wrack the possiblities, baffled as to why she could possibly be this mad at me. I didn't bring her more alcohol--

"How long..."

She didn't win the lottery and she's taking it out on me--

"... has she been pregnant? Do you even know? It is your child."

I feel like I've been punched in the gut.

"What?"

-o-

NotTheEndYet