FicWad

After I scramble to my feet and past Tom, I retreat back to where I slept and sat down with my hands in my lap like a three year old. I felt somewhat bad; I mean it wasn't my place to be. Joe kept glaring at me as if I fucked his girlfriend; or stole something of great importance. Or killed the Queen Of England. I sighed, as they just started talking about something that was tonight. All I herd was 'gig, music, auditions, come home'. I wasn't really paying any attention. It perked my interest somewhat, but not really. After a bit they both look at me. I blinked, as I stared back. Tom cleared his throat.
"We're going to be gone most of the day, I'm taking the key with me, so if you lock yourself out, it's your fault. Don't go slinking around, please." Joe shoots me one more glare as I roll my eyes as they leave. Well this leaves me to myself, and I'm looking around that room. I don't care if they want me too or not. So after about ten minutes, I get up and go into the other room again. I start going through things, I picked up a bloody towel and raised an eyebrow. Er. That's not strange or anything; I tossed it aside as I kept looking. I know I shouldn't be doing this, but curiosity killed the cat. I find some books piled in a strange fashion as I pick them up and move them. I back up a little bit at what I find. A bindle of syringes. I also saw a bloody spoon next them. A shudder ran up my spine. Which one of them was shooting up? Aren't the two of them only fifteen!?! Oh good god. I pick up the bindle. I don't care if I get whipped for this but they shouldn't be doing this. As I begin to walk away, I stop and think for a moment. There has to be substance around. I set the bindle down on a dusty shelf, and start looking around.
xXx

I'm sitting here, with my head against the wall, trying not to puke up my lungs. I ended up finding cocaine along with a spare lighter. I ended up getting to curious, and shot up. I scrambled around afterwards trying to hide everything and for a rag of some sort. I was hearing things, and more paranoid then fuck. I kept gripping at my left arm. Stop.Fucking.Bleeding. I hated the feeling, but all at the same time I found myself drawn to it. I could tell this wasn't going to end well. I finally just let myself fall backwards(sitting down to begin with) onto my back. I stared at the ceiling and then lifted my arm up and watched the blood trace down it. I'm such a fucking idiot for doing this, I sat back up as I whipped the blood off with the blanket next to me. ….How am I going to get rid of this blood… I'll worry about it later. I stared to get this bitch of a headache, and it wouldn't seem to lighten up. I let out a groan as I then herd the door open up. Whoop-de-fucking-do. I already had myself curled up in the blanket, and my back to them. Trying to pretend I was sleeping. I herd a new voice among them, but I didn't bother. I was trying not to hurl, and trying not to interact for the fear of being shot by Joe.