I never had much growing up. My family was quite poor and my dad died if cancer at age 35. I was 7 then and my mom struggled to pay bills. I don't like talking about it much but its just something I do. Many people made fun of me. Saying stuff like...
"It's all your fault your dad is dead!"
"You shouldn't be alive to begin with!"
"You're the cancer!"
But I knew it wasn't my fault. When my mom managed to remarry she was supported and I moved out. I live in a 3 room house paying $200 a month. Cheap cause my Dad used to know him.
I ponder what my life would be like with my dad being alive. I did the same routine every single day. I took days off on weekends to see mom or just to get some sleep. I don't have friends so I go out and drink and hook up and regret usually. I know I'm stupid but it helps me forget. I even sometimes drink, I'm old enough to do so after all. Not much but barely. I sigh as I walk across the street.
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Jonathan was a normal man that worked at a supermarket out side of town. He did what he did everyday. Then one day he comes into a coffee shop seeing a guy with galaxy colored hair and yellow eyes. He smiles at him. He had a tattoo on his right wris...