Love & PCP


I fell in love with him when I held a gun for the first time. It was weird how it all worked out. My mom just got of prison for the second time so I was kind of pissed off. She was such a fucking loser all junkiefied and eager to love me. It was pathetic after what she did.

My big brother Brendan was the closest thing I had to a father. I remember the last time we went driving down Fox Road. The sun was blue for some reason and Brendan was happy. He had just proposed to Ellen his girlfriend, she was my only friend
My mother was driving them to their wedding stupid bitch was on drugs. She slammed the jeep into the flower shop Brendan worked at for years. She was the only one that survived.

It was at the welcome home party for my mom when my life. This guy I had never seen before walked up to me, he was wearing a blue beanie, he had a sesame street shirt on. I was half way drunk, who would care, who would notice?

“It must fucking suck that this crack bitch gets to live, that brother of yours, your friend they get to be dead. That is not the worse part, the worst is you being alive stuck with hating this bitch while wishing you were with them.” Of course I did, I would rather be dead at fourteen then living another moment with Momma.

His name was Sgt Grayson Holmes. He was a broken man with serious blue eyes. He was a bastard, shot his abusive grandfather to death with a Desert Eagle .50 cal. Pissed on his grave, placed the gun in a silver chest underneath his bed.

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