Away from the drug filled harsh reality that surrounds every second of my life, here I lay in this ten by four meter bedroom. With only the beautiful fragrance of my brightly burning incense stick to pleasure my already dead senses. The cut on my head seems to be getting larger by the minute. If only I hadn't tried to stop those boys from mugging that old lady .but that seems to be my life, a whole bunch of " if only's ". If only I had never met the guy's who I call my friends, I might be in a descent, honourable job. Instead of sitting on a street corner seven nights a week getting high off so many drugs I can't even remember what half of them are called. Although at least one good thing has come out of my time wasting . Emily.
"DOMINIC!".
Knock ,Knock.
"Dominic if this door ain't open by my count o" ten I"m gonna take this fuckin" belt to you again.!".
That's my loving father, huh . maybe I"ll just let him take the belt to me again, this time I"ll report him to the police, he"ll go to jail, then me and my mum could move from this shit pit of a neighbourhood and start a real life in a descent society. Then again whether I open the door now, or in ten seconds I"m still going to have a few more bruises and scars to add to the collection . But it's good to dream sometimes. It's a different kind of feeling to the other so-called pleasures in life. In a dream I can be anything, or anybody, instead of Dominic the nineteen year old, drug abusive loser this town has forced me to be.
"you"d better open this fuckin" door boy, this is the third time this week you've gotten into a fight, and I"m gonna make sure it's the fuckin last!".
"I wasn't fighting, I -.
It isn't worth my breath, all he had been told by one of his "informants" was that I had picked a fight with two gang members from the neighbourhood. It isn't worth explaining to him, he"d only call me a "lying little bastard", then he"d beat me ten times harder for trying to get out of trouble.
