Be Real

It'd been at least a week since he broke into Brad's house. The threats that Brad gave him before didn't mean shit to Alex and he decided to make it a point to his dip shit friend that no matter what he did, or how many "friends" he said he has, that Alex will always be the main figure in his life. 

Nobody casted him aside. NO-FUCKING-BODY! And that meant that a point needed to be made. 

Alex went through the entirety of the house and created holes in the walls with his fists or steel toed boots and didn't shy away from pissing in the corner of Brad's dingy bedroom.

When he came to the office he bashed a few of the monitors that Brad used to watch his people and laughed as the glass shattered. Upon leaving, the black gloves that he wore were cut and torn from the broken glass and covered in plaster dust. But he felt accomplished. 

Now he's home alone, itching to cause chaos once again and nobody around to take his frustrations on. He's felt slighted by everybody and the compulsion to be destructive screams into his mind; forcing him to see blood red every time he blinks. 

He needs his fix.