Claimed:The Dope Fiend Chronology: Part One

[Ninetyfourgoalie 168]

Quote

So I'm trying to work on my storytelling and this seemed like a great way to start doing this, at least a little bit. Please be warned that it will probably be pretty shitty... have plenty of experience with argumentative essays and technical writing, though. Have to start somewhere  So, here's part one of the Dope Fiend Chronology

 

DINGGGG DONGGGGG. Dope Fiend looked around his two-room apartment for the final time, hardly believing that this was it. For a man of sixty three years, he was not well-traveled, rarely leaving his Baltimore - D.C. bubble. As he picked up his bags and headed towards the door, he briefly reflected upon his life and just how little he'd accomplished outside of shooting up in virtually every alleyway in the area. At this point, most of his old friends were long dead, locked up, or doped up. While he was leaving behind his entire old life, he realized, in actuality, how little he would be losing. Dope Fiend slowly extended his velvety brown hand to the door and opened it. His agent was waiting for him. "Hey old man! You ready to go?"

 

Dope Fiend looked back into the small apartment he had lived in since getting out of prison just over ten years ago. They may not have been the most exciting ten years of his life but, for once, he had finally straightened himself out. "I'm ready," he replied as he shut the door behind him, "I'm not sure how this is going to work but I know it will." The two trodded down the staircrase, creaking with each step, as if they were reminding Dope Fiend of the finality this decision. They made it downstairs and walked toward the taxi. Ninetyfourgoalie entered first as Dope Fiend followed. As he began to climb into the back seat, the old driver turned around and locked eyes with Dope Fiend, who noticed a scar along the man's right cheek. He was not even halfway into the car when he stopped and, in a split second, was sprinting back to his apartment building. He heard a gunshot as he frantically pulled out his keys, fumbling for the long, silver one that opened the lock. Dope Fiend quickly unlocked the door and snuck back inside as he heard three more gunshots and the screeching of tires outside. He caught his breath for a moment, leaned against the mailboxes, and slid down to the floor, his hands covering his face. Dope Fiend wondered if he would ever escape this prison he'd once called his home. Just then, there was violent banging on the door.

 

Dope Fiend stood up and, with extreme care, pulled back the curtain just enough to see Ninetyfourgoalie's pale, white hand and quickly opened the door to let him in. "What the FUCK? What was that?"

 

"That... that is why I went to prison. Did you see his scar? He got that from me about thirty years ago." Dope Fiend took a deep breath. "I'm never going to get out of here, am I? We're never going to make it to Oslo."

 

"Don't worry, old man. I gave you my word. I'm not giving up on you now."

Edited January 7, 2016 by Ninetyfourgoalie

[Tim 182]

Claimed