Hell and Chaos

Parte 1 senza titolo

Hell watched his father as he filled the cup with liquor.

"You really don't have to worry, H. It's just one glass, and I'll be going right away."

He turned around to look at him. His face fell as Hell responded.

"No, Dad, I'm not five. I have a bad feeling about this."
His father smiled again.

"And what did I tell you about doubting me? It's fine. I'll still have full control over my thoughts."

"No, you won't." He mumbled.

"What? And how do you know what it's like? You don't."
"About that, dad..." Hell looked away. His father brushed past him.

"Just sit on the couch. Avoid your mother, she hasn't been feeling well."

Hell clenched his fists.

"Dad, Jesus, just listen to me, for once!"

He didn't. He turned and opened the door.

"I'll be back sometime tomorrow, okay?" He took a long drink of the liquor.

"Yeah, okay."

But he wasn't.

The day passed, and he didn't come home, as he had said.

By the second day, his mother got angry. He was probably drinking again.

By the first week, his mother asked his friends. They had said they hadn't even seen him one day.

She called the police.

The police only found him two days later on a remote road. In the middle of nowhere. He was drunk and had crashed into a pole. The next day his mother had called everyone. No one knew where he was going to have been there.

His funeral came and went. His mother went through depressive episode after depressive episode. Hell got more into alcohol. At first, he was scared, but since he never really drove, he felt that he would be fine. One day he and his friends were driving and they pushed Hell to. He broke down. But this didn't stop him. He got more dependent. His friends started getting worried. His mother found out, and she was furious. Now there was no hiding it. Only sixteen and dependent on alcohol. It hardly took a few months for his mother to crash. One day, she seemed happy, but Hell, wondering where she had gone, found her dead in the bathroom. He wasn't sure what to do; he panicked. What would his friends say? He had told them he'd gotten sober. He had covered up his dad's death. He couldn't lose this. He hid her body and got a job as quickly as possible. He did anything to make money for a year before he knew he had to leave. And he did. He ran away, and eventually found a flight to an entirely different country. He would start over there. When he got to America, he struggled to stay sober, and he failed anytime he tried. He stayed in motels and hotels for as long as he could, when suddenly, he found a roommate. He moved in the same day, having nothing to pack except for the clothes on his back and a bag. The man introduced himself as Chaos. He had fluffy, black hair and striking light blue eyes.

"Hi! I thought your name was a little strange, so I thought I'd just say it outright - I'm Chaos! Did you have anything you needed to bring in?"

Hell said nothing. After a few seconds, he pushed past Chaos and into the main room, which had the kitchen attached and the beds in the same place. Chaos shrugged it off and gestured to a corner.

"You can just put your... stuff... over there. You'll be able to tell what's mine, so you can just take what you need."
Hell put his jacket into the corner, looking around. After a few seconds, he made his way to the empty bed. He dragged it, slowly, closer to the corner. After a few seconds of staring, he laid on it and took his phone out. Chaos bounced on the balls of his feet.

"Make yourself at home."
Hell ignored him. Make no relations.

Eventually, with the urge keeping him on edge, Hell sat up. Bored and hungry, the cravings only got worse.

"Are you okay with alcoholics?"
Chaos spun around, surprised.

"Shit, you speak! Erm... yeah, sure, as long as you don't trash the place, which you won't. Heh. Are you British?"

Hell ignored the threat, and the question, and put his jacket on. Before he opened the door, he turned to look at him again.

"What about smoke?"
"Keep a window cracked."
Wow. The most laid-back roommate ever.

Hell stared at himself in the reflection. Chaos glanced over from behind his computer.

"What are you thinking about?"
Hell grumbled.

"I look like I came from the trash."

Chaos looked him up and down. Awkwardly grown out, brown hair, stubble, dark circles that almost looked like 2000's emo eyeliner, defeated look, and bad posture.

"...Yeah. You kinda do. You should get more sleep."

Hell scoffed and looked back at himself.

"I should get a haircut."

Chaos chuckled. Hell took that as an agreement. He got up.

"What are you doing?" Chaos looked up.

Hell put his jacket on.

"Going out."

Chaos watched as he opened the fridge and reached for the bottle. He froze before Chaos even spoke.

"Aren't you going to be driving?"

Hell pushed away the memory and feelings that were bubbling up.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll drink when I get back."

With that, he left.

He came back holding stuff from Target. Dropping it off in the bathroom, he went into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of gin, and went back into the bathroom.

He stared at himself in the mirror. Time for a fucking change.

Sorry for it being short. I'll upload again soon!