*Chapter Eight*

Mike threw yet another empty bottle of beer down on the floor, letting out a loud burp. He was happiest drowning all his sorrows in alcohol. Ironically, though, he grew up in a household where alcohol of any kind was not permitted.

Perhaps that's what drove him into his first drunken stupor. He had is first can of beer when he was only 12. His addiction began less than a year later. He managed to hide it from his parents; getting cought only once, when he came home drunk from a party when he was 16.

As soon as humanly possible, he got his ass out of that house. He stayed in an apartment for awhile, blowing his paychecks (or unemployment when that came about) on drinking and the occasional meal. His love life consisted mainly of whores and one night stands.

When his friend old him about this house, where he could go live as long as he paid his share of the rent, he accepted drunkenly, not realizing what he was dragging himself into.

He started cackling insanely, pickuping up yet another bottle of beer. This is the stupidest thing I've ever done! he thought, laughing harder.

**next chapter**