jacob 'cub' choo; d6 [cb#2] ~ fin

X

"Smoking's bad for your lungs y'know,"

Bitter words slurred towards a bitter man.

My next words are ice. Pushing the frost from my lungs before inhaling another round of the chemical holocaust clutched between my fingers. "Bite me, cunt." I breathe like mechanical clockwork, cogs grinding and hell freezing over beneath me. His cold hand's a whip, the crack that echoes throughout the room is a silent warning I've heard one too many times to be deaf to it (watch your mouth, little brat.)

My tears froze a long time ago.

I swear, the universe wasn't always this cold. There was a time I had an escape route that wasn't dependent on the eye of the needle, a lighter or the bed of a stranger. It was easier when I was a kid. Wide dark eyes and dark hair and every time I got tired of my drunken father beating up on Mom I could run out into winter streets and find them. Teddy and Pan, Teddy and Pan, just Teddy and just Pan. It was easier then. Just the three little bros; Teddy, Cub and Pan. I was always the one getting us into shit, a little brat if there ain't one.

Then winter swept the universe. Teddy stopped coming out and we never saw him again. I grew thin, skin pale and hair growing darker and wilder. Now, I only see Pan when he's giving me another hit of morphling on his daily runs. A hell of a lot put together than me and Teddy's got more money than he knows to do with. And I'm just a smart kid with who's written off as wasted potential.

Teddy and Pan; they survived winter while I'm waiting for this hell within my head to freeze over.

Bump???