Brad's Wonderful Do Good Day

“Days like these don’t end well… do they?” The deep voice called out to itself, in the cold, wet darkness, back-lighted by the dotting of other homes’ lights. Sounding very exhausted, and almost ready to fall asleep, if you could tell.

Brad sighed. The rain was starting to very slightly soak him. A slight drizzle, only enough to cover streets with a slick of water, and people with a mist of water. He took in a deep breath, letting in the smoke fill him, making him feel like utter shit, but feeling oh, so nice.

He coughed a bit as he breathed out, letting the smoke pass into the rain, dispersing quick but letting it’s smell linger behind. Disgusting. Suffocating. Brad hated every minute of it, but couldn’t kick the addiction he had developed with this cancer stick.

“Fuck it.” He said out loud as he took another long drag, coughing and sputtering again as he exhaled, tossing the half-done cigarette to the side, watching it quickly diminish and snuff itself out on the wet ground.

He blamed himself for taking after that bastard of a father of his. This damn addiction. He was the reason he even hated the smell to begin with. Not like his mother stopped him, either, so she’s also to blame. His sister didn’t even care. She didn’t even stop him when he said he was leaving.

What a bitch.

He sighed out loud again as he stepped outwards into the street, letting that rain fall right on him as he closed his eyes and stared right back up at the sky with a worried feeling in his gut.

“I seriously hope I can get through this week.” He said as the water started to saturate his face, bit by bit.

After a few minutes, he took a deep breath and turned back to the street, making his way back to his home.