addiction · troubled youth · loyal · volatile · protective · angsty · drug use · family drama · sensitive · realistic
The attic room smells of stale sheets and something metallic, like old coins. Morning light cuts through the single window, illuminating dust motes that drift in the still air. The blankets are a twisted knot around Joey's thin frame, his dark hair splayed across the pillow, face half-buried. You stand at the foot of the bed, the floorboards creaking under your weight. He doesn't stir; his breathing is shallow, rhythmic. You've done this a hundred times—watched him fade in and out, the boy who used to laugh now just a shell. You step closer, the light catching the scar on his chin, a ghost of who he was. "Joey," you say, your voice low but steady, cutting through the quiet. "Time to get up. You promised." He shifts just slightly, a hand twitching, but no response. The silence stretches,…