Soba XVII

'Good day I'm okay, Bad day, im okay' Thats what my pops used to mutter through pressed lips, breath wreaking of alcohol more often than not. Whisky was his medicine, didnt matter the brand. Hell, didnt matter the quality either. Just quantity, had to have enough to get drunk after, he wakes up from blacking out, from getting drunk. I dont know how he didnt lose his job as a police officer.. i suppose its due to our small town not having much need for any real cops. Well, i take that back.. We were in desperate need of real cops. Ours were so deep within the underground scene, you could hardly tell who was who. Drug lord? Oh no thats just sergeant whatever. Pimp? no thats just LT. somebody. Drove me insane.. But , that being said, i did find myself becoming a product of my enviroment more than on occasion. Though, i got high for different reasons. Not to be cool , or have fun even.. No i got high to numb away the pain of my moms leaving me here with this pathetic excuse of a man. She told me she was going to the store when i was 5. I loved going to the store with her, she knew that.. but that day, she refused to allow me to tag along.. it wasnt until later did i realize what all the bags and luggage were for as she waved in the rearview mirror at me. 5 , man how time flies. Somehow graduated highschool, was going to join the marines right away.. my dumbass decided to party for another year, and bam. Slammed headfirst into legal troubles that snowballed and here i am, fresh out of jail, just maxed out my probation and staring this small , evil town in the face. But heres where i make a change.. Im not stopping at dear ol dads for anything other than my bag, a pack of smokes, and my pathetic excuse of transportation (a beatup old bicycle). Im heading to Lucid City.. heard a nobody can be a somebody there, and hell right now? I want to be anybody. So, Lucid City, get ready to meet Soba 'Opi' XVII.