The Story

Vivian

*Chapter 1*

         This will not be like any story, any person have ever read. Just be prepared for the unknown. This story will consist of a young adult, female, beautiful, and very stubborn. Her life is a rollercoaster that never stops, her mind does not stop either. Her thoughts are what gets her in trouble. She tends to find herself in a lot of deep, shit. So, ladies and gentlemen; keep your hands and feet within the ride, buckle up, and enjoy it.



         Day four without any sleep. My eyes are bloodshot and I hear a ringing in my ear as if someone right beside me just fired a gun. The room looks fuzzy and everyone around me are in their daze, as well. I look down at my lap as as my racing heart beats a million miles per hour.
         The lightbulb, the egg-white substance on top of the glass. That substance, it's my disease. Like everyone else that leaves, this thing NEVER leaves me. My only true friend. It makes me feel so good but yet so low, sometimes. Almost like a toxic relationship, since I do not have time for one of those, my disease can be my partner.
         I pick it up, right along with the torch-lighter. I heat the lightbulb up, watching the substance melt into a liquid. I begin to twirl the bulb, the bulb fills with smoke. I begin to inhale deeply, as I inhale, I exstinguish the flame of the torch.
         I open my mouth wide and exhale slowly. I lean my head back and watch the smoke escape from my mouth. I love that. I love watching the smoke come from my body. Brings me at ease. I hit the lightbulb a few more times and passed it to Tyson.
         My fluke broke yesterday. Turbo's dumbass had a warrent so, I put the fluke into a napkin at the bottom of my purse and stomp on that bitch. I was literally terrified. I rushed the bag of dope up my pusst before the cop came to the car. There is no longer a lady deputy in North Side Chicago District. So, they could not search me or my items. That's how I got away from that situation.
         So, like a real addict. I improvised and made my own, type of work. I swear, it almost pulls better than my old fluke-pipe. I was very satisfied at my work.
         "Vivian, come to the kitchen, please." Blake shouted over his shoulder. He ashes his cigarette before picking up another card from the deck. I fold my tubesock up and left it in my seat.
         I slowly rise to my feet and slowly make my way beside Blake. I pulled up a fold-out chair and sat beside him at the kitchen table.
         "Look at this piece of shit hand, dawg." He says as he leans closer to me. They are playing spades and he might as well forfiet.
         Only two face cards, which are both Jacks, and only four low spade cards. I winced as soon as he shown me his hand, I rubbed the back of my neck and laughed.
         "Damn nigga. Better not bet more than fuckin' three books." I laugh and his partner shakes his head in fustration. "Fuck this shit! You fucking suck, Blake! Bad vooju, nigga." Turbo shouts as he throws his cards down and stomps off.
         "Man, ya'll are on some fuck shit. These are cards were once in a life time type of deal." Tyson yells toward Turbo's direction. Tyson lays his cards perfectly down, exposing the best hand I have ever seen.
         Jack, Kings, and Aces of all suits in his hand and a shit load of spades. They would have probably gotten board, legit. Blake looks at me, then Tyson, then at his cards, and throws them down.
         "Bro, I don't know how you did it but I know you fuckin' cheated nigga! We too big for that shit!" Blake chuckles while he takes a drink from his red cup.
         "Ya'll nigga's know if we play high dice, ya'll would be broke as fuck. Fuckin' with me. Bet." I say outloud confidently. I stand up and grab the swishers out of my purse. As I make my way back to the table, the guys are all laughing.