wilson izar-krane ; tom/ghosty ; white elephant
Jan 9, 2016 13:21:57 GMT -5
Post by Avalon on Jan 9, 2016 13:21:57 GMT -5
Writing Thinks Says Hears
Alcohol was an escape, but only a short lived one. A poison that could slide down his throat and keep the boy alive for only a little bit. Smiles and laughs filling the bar that obviously wasn't for Wilson. A fake smile stuck to his lips. The alcohol filling depression's bottle to subside the weaknesses only for a short time. Depression was drunk and happy, allowing Wilson a sense of peace even if it was going to be short lived.
The work that Wilson had gotten in District Eleven was small and tedious. A job was something he didn't want, but had to do to provide for his father and himself. The last two Izar-Krane's that they knew of. Work and sorrows were the only things in Wilson's life. Nothing else reigned over his life. No love. No happiness. Nothing. Wilson was only allowed to be broken inside and out. A sacrifice that happens when you lose people close to you. First, Levi Izar-Krane, and lastly, their mother both lost their lives.
The bar was open when Wilson had been looking for a slight escape. The bar wild and hectic like it should be in any district. People drinking for pleasure. People drinking for sorrows. It didn't matter, as long as you were drinking. The noises just being blurred together into a sound that Wilson didn't care about. The focus on the liquid gold in his hand that would give him an escape from the reality of the life before him. Wilson was walking on the tightrope nightmare known as reality and the boy hated the nightmare. Nothing made him feel better. Nothing would make him feel better.
People find seats around him. His eyes focusing only on what's in front of him and not around him. They were all just puppets being pulled by strings. Puppets that make themselves look like fools in front of a crowd. Puppets being pulled to push the people on into doing the idiotic things that they were doing. Women being pulled by strings into hunting for a man to have a one night stand with, Wilson had already told one or two to leave him alone. Strings were everywhere twisting and turning. Dangerous was what the place was, but Levi didn't care, alcohol was what he needed after a day like the one he had.
A person sits next to him. Wilson is finally tipsy and is having the room blur slightly around the corners of his eyes. Wilson can't make out the person next to him, but an interest is formed for the Izar boy. Words tumble out of his mouth, "Hello. I'm Wilsssson, want a drink?" Wilson doesn't wait for the person to reply, he just orders some sort of alcohol for the person. His tipsy head already forming ideas of talking to strangers for no damn reason. Alcohol and Wilson don't mix very well, yet here Wilson was with a person he may or may not know drinking to his heart's content.
The smile plastered to his face is the only real smile that he's given in awhile. The alcohol making him forget the sorrows of life from before. A genuine smile that probably isn't so genuine from the alcohol, but it still counted as a smile. Wilson would count it. Maybe. The boy sat at the bar was smiling at the person that he may or may not know. All that he knew was the night was young and Wilson wanted to be wild and spontaneous and have fun for once. Just once. Broken men drink to forget.