With an explosive sigh, Jack Hadley let his head fall back against the concrete wall of the building he had collapsed next to, balling his long hands into fists before proceeding to slam them on each of his bent knees. He needed a fix badly, Feeling as if it had been months since his last hit, Even though the reality was that it had only been a few days. The slight quavering in his hands was testimony enough that it had been one day too many already. Trying to ignore the twitching of his left hand, The young man focused hard on the stars overhead, letting each point of light pierce his senses.
He hadn't always been in this situation, Out on the Streets without a home to go to or money to purchase food, his life caught up in a tangle of drugs and debt... No, at one time he had actually been quite happy with his circumstances. He had grown up in a decent middle-class home, The youngest of three boys. He had gone to a series of fancy schools, Made excellent friends, had been well-liked and popular, Captain of the basketball team in high school. And then after only a year in college, working for a Business that was quickly climbing the ladder, He made a huge investment in a Store of his own that he claimed would make him a rich man. Except that it hadn't. The whole company bombed within the first three months of it's opening, The money going down the drain and costing him even more then he could earn. His girlfriend promptly left him, claiming that she had only been interested in his inevitable fortune, The small condo he had owned falling behind on payments and eventually coming to a foreclosure, his car taken away for one too many parking tickets and the lack of gas, Insurance, or payments on the amount still due. He had crashed rather then fallen into a hole that he couldn't find his way out of. What little money he still had to his name had gone into alcohol at first, trying to drive away the pain through intoxication. But when that hadn't felt sufficient to him, he had given in to the pressure of a friend, finally let a needle slip beneath his skin. That experience, the high and the absolute freedom of the pain had been his downfall, his body instantly craving more ecstasy, Both emotional and physical, wanted to feel that freedom again and again, even though it was progressively getting worse...
But that, of course, was in his past. It didn't matter what he had been, Not now as he sat on the hard concrete sidewalk, Hands quivering and stomach rumbling loudly in his gut. His thoughts began to flicker towards the possibility of rummaging through restaurant trash cans, Even tensed up his muscles to get to his feet, but his malnourished and scrawny frame refused to respond, picking the most inopportune moments to want to take a break. A dry and humorless laugh escaped him, Closing his heavy eyelids to the world and began to wish at that moment for nothing more then death.
He hadn't always been in this situation, Out on the Streets without a home to go to or money to purchase food, his life caught up in a tangle of drugs and debt... No, at one time he had actually been quite happy with his circumstances. He had grown up in a decent middle-class home, The youngest of three boys. He had gone to a series of fancy schools, Made excellent friends, had been well-liked and popular, Captain of the basketball team in high school. And then after only a year in college, working for a Business that was quickly climbing the ladder, He made a huge investment in a Store of his own that he claimed would make him a rich man. Except that it hadn't. The whole company bombed within the first three months of it's opening, The money going down the drain and costing him even more then he could earn. His girlfriend promptly left him, claiming that she had only been interested in his inevitable fortune, The small condo he had owned falling behind on payments and eventually coming to a foreclosure, his car taken away for one too many parking tickets and the lack of gas, Insurance, or payments on the amount still due. He had crashed rather then fallen into a hole that he couldn't find his way out of. What little money he still had to his name had gone into alcohol at first, trying to drive away the pain through intoxication. But when that hadn't felt sufficient to him, he had given in to the pressure of a friend, finally let a needle slip beneath his skin. That experience, the high and the absolute freedom of the pain had been his downfall, his body instantly craving more ecstasy, Both emotional and physical, wanted to feel that freedom again and again, even though it was progressively getting worse...
But that, of course, was in his past. It didn't matter what he had been, Not now as he sat on the hard concrete sidewalk, Hands quivering and stomach rumbling loudly in his gut. His thoughts began to flicker towards the possibility of rummaging through restaurant trash cans, Even tensed up his muscles to get to his feet, but his malnourished and scrawny frame refused to respond, picking the most inopportune moments to want to take a break. A dry and humorless laugh escaped him, Closing his heavy eyelids to the world and began to wish at that moment for nothing more then death.
