It was only a matter of time. I had bad habits and they were really hard to break. “Luther!” He calls my name out. “Come on, you’re free to go” he says opening the gate to my cell.

 

Great I’ve ended up in here so much even the newbie knows my name.

 

“Wash up, you look like you murder someone” he comments cringing his nose in disgust. “Whatever man” I mumble waving my arm at his comment.

 

Finally getting home I open my sweater. The shirt underneath it was covered in blood. Technically it wasn’t my fault. That other guy tried to force himself on that drunk girl. She should have been less careless if she was alone. I guess it was my fault for getting involved. When the police were called, they arrested me too. Mainly because they assumed I had something to do with it. Once they heard the story out they knew I wasn’t responsible. Still they kept me overnight because I was drunk as hell.

 

Pulling my shirt off I threw it to a corner as I digged around my dresser for another shirt. There was an eviction notice on my dresser. Right … I forgot about that. Picking a cigarette up from my dresser I light it up. After taking a puff, I raise my hand to my face carefully prodding the swollen hot skin around my eye. That was going to be a pain.

 

“Luther! Open the door Luther!” I hear her calling my name from outside my place. Getting up I open the door. “It’s bad to smoke inside the house” she comments yanking it out of my hand. Clenching my hand I ignore my anger. “Come on go hit the shower, I got you an interview” she smiles proud of herself.  

 

“Why do you do that?” I grumble heading to the couch. “Do what?” She asks pulling a new shirt out of her bag. “Care” I say annoyed. “Stop being an idiot, I know you’re capable of more” she tells me grabbing my towel off a chair and throwing it at me.

 

“Claire, just leave, forget the interview” I tell her as I throw my towel down. “Leave me alone” I tell her grabbing her by her arm and leading her to the door.

 

“Luther what that hell has gotten into you?” She comments yanking her arm away. “I don’t need your charity, so leave” I tell her walking to my door I open it, using my hands to motion her leaving.

 

“The least you could do is shown a hit of appreciation” she scolds shoving the suit into my hands before leaving. Closing the door I head to my table. Opening a bottle of liquor, I pour myself some. She believes I’m more than this. Ha, what a joke.  I’m not gonna change who I am anytime soon. I felt bad for her trying to ‘fix me’, and all I do is lash out. She should know by now to give up.