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My hazel bed hair in definite need of love. I yawn and start my nighttime routine - my eyes scanning over my reflection in the mirror. People say alcohol is good, people say sex is good but what about pissing? I undo my pyjama bottoms Pull down my jocks Take aim, and feel the sweet sensation of urination. I seesaw between sleep-heaven and battling my path to the bathroom, waging a silent war in my head: Can I hold it in or should I get up? Sacrificing my comfort, I slip out of my blanket and make my way towards the en suite. My heavy eyes battle against my growling bladder.
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The lingering scent of alcohol the only signal he was here.īattling against the music, I smother myself into my duvet its warmth hugging my body - unfortunately the only thing hugging my body at all these days. A chuckle and a wink and he disappears - shutting my door and returning the room to its somewhat silence. "Oh and can you turn your music down 's so fucking loud." I sit up dramatically, grabbing a pillow and place it around my ears - meeting the blurry gaze of my stumbling older brother. Horrible boyfriend - all 5 days he is their boyfriend. He has always managed to boast an exhilarating vibe - stealing the hearts of many young, gullible girls who part their legs like Moses parted the sea. Harvey has always been the life of the party, I mean, he is the physical embodiment of a party: Loud, fun, colourful, exciting. "Danté! Come down stairs and party dudeee!" My brother screams franticly from my doorway my duvet unable to mask his begging - his voice a mixture of drunken glee and intoxication.