Introduction; Sasuke
God...his head was fucking pounding...
Where the fuck was he?
Oh, he had been asleep on the welcome mat. He didn't even get to open the door. It was kinda funny.
Ow! Laughing hurts! Laughing hurts!
Okay Sasuke, ease yourself up, yep okay, keys?
Jesus fucking christ.
He didn't have his keys.
Sasuke leant his head against the door, his eyes ached, the barely risen sun gratefully not attacking his retinas. He lifted himself off the ground, his hunched for expanding into a tall, fairly handsome but deathly skinny young man. He stumbled, steadied...and kicked his door open.
"Fuck" Sasuke hopped on the foot that hadn't kicked the door, holding the injured foot. He ended up tipping over and landing on his ass.
"I fucking..." he sighed and stood up and walked inside with a barely noticable limp.
He just about remembered to shut the door. He went straight into the kitchen and opened a cupboard.
It was lined with medicine, pain killers and the such but the real impressive part was the seven boxes of valium, he picked up one box that was already open and took two out. It was highly Ill reccomend to do this. But he wasn't particularly bothered. Anyways, they weren't prescription, they were illegally brought. The world doesn't care what he does.
Popping them in his mouth and, because he was feeling extra adventurous, took a big swig of grapefruit juice, he swallowed and went upstairs to sleep away the mistakes from last night's drinking binge.
Valium was meant to help stop alcoholics, he found that kind of funn- ouch! Laughing still hurts! Laughing still hurts!
Sleeping for sixteen hours sounds refreshing but he woke up and hated himself.
He was a fucking disgusting waste of space. Not only was he a huge fuck up that got himself cut off from his family, he's now a loser druggie with a drinking problem with an extra dash of bipolar depression. Or manic depression. Or whatever the fuck it's called, he doesn't care. And, icing on the metaphorical cake of fuck ups he wasn't even going to help the world populate, hes heard the simpering "he's too pretty to be off the market" and the "are you sure he's not just in the closet?" So yeah, hes also some freak of nature apparently too. Too fucked up that he couldn't ever bring himself to date or fuck, he remembered that eventful evening when some old fuck called him an "obviously budding psychopathic serial killer" because he said he was asexual. Then dad had slapped Sasuke for embarrassing him. Wow, heartwarming family fun bonding time, great reminiscing. He needed a fucking noose or at least another round of drinking himself to self sabotaging levels of stupidity again.
Drinking was great. Absolutely a delight. He drunk a lot. When he was feeling fucking ecstatic he drank like a fish because who could stop him, and when he was depressed, he drank like a fish because no one could stop him. It was a good system. When hes happy hes a happy drunk and when hes sad hes the most miserable bastard no one ever wanted to meet.
Both times he was incredibly impulsive.
Getting off the floor, he accidentally stabbed his hand on a needle but he barely felt it, his pain receptors having numbed with the alcohol sloshing around inside him. He got up and spent a solid five minutes wrestling his keys to let him out. He almost gave up, today wasn't going to be that day. Until, the door opened. He walked out, didn't shut the door. If it got looted, well, he probably won't be around to find out.
He made his way until he was at the edge of a road. A car was speeding towards him, he'd have to do this quick, before they had time to slow down. It was fast and expensive.
He stepped in front of the car.
It made impact.