“I’m a loser!” I screamed. “Yeah, that’s what I am! The sorest of losers! “Loser! Loser! Loser!!!” I screamed, my voice grew louder with each word. I was punched drunk, tears and snot mixing in my face. “Ah! The biggest loser!"“Lyle, let’s go.” My friend Alex said, tugging my arm. “You’re drunk and it’s getting late."
“No!” I snatched my arm away. “If you want to go, then go! The hell! I’m so tired of people like you! Go! Leave me! You’re all the same! All of you!” I screamed, slurring. “I hate this! I so fuckin’ hate this!” Fresh tears managed to escape my eyes.
Clutching the books that I launched onto the street earlier, he just clucked his tongue and shook his head. I wiped my face with my sleeve. Tears continued to spill while I struggled to remain in a vertical position. He fished out a handkerchief in his left pocket, and offered it to me.
“I don’t need that!” I said, pushing his hand away. “In fact, I don’t need you people! You people need me! I don’t fucking need you!” I screamed again, pointing a forefinger directly to his face.
“And when you couldn’t find any use of Lyle anymore, you then ditch me! Just like that, you people always walk out on me! Lyle the dumpee! Yeah, that’s what I am! Poor Lyle, people say! Fuck them! Fuck them all!"
I swayed, almost fell down. “Shitty sidewalk.” I muttered.
(to be concluded…)
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