Bad Choices

         Kayden leans over groggily to shut off the annoying alarm as it blares mercilessly into his foggy brain, but not knowing where it is, using only his ears to find the source, he misses it a few times before finally catching hold of it. For a stunned second or two he is unsure of where he is. Then it comes to him: in pieces and flashes of images first, then rushing like a flood over him.
         With a sigh he falls back into the stiff mattress, and he curses from the shots of pain that spread across him like rapid gunfire. Grunting softly, he gingerly moves his bruised body, wincing with every motion. "Stupid idiot", he mutters to himself. Sighing again, knowing that cursing himself won't do any good, he just lays there with frustration settling on his grizzled face.
         Then, "What in the bleedin' hell you bouncin' aroun' like tha' for buddy?!" shatters a metallic voice beside him. Laying there, he prays silently she won't speak again, but will let him attempt to gather his brain at his own pace.
         "Oh, don't tell me you are rockin' for some more o' that lovelness from las' night?! Mah goodness, I figured you was plum done out!" continues the nasal sound beside him.
         Dreading to look over, the weary man just lays there in silence, hoping this is simply a gaudy nightmare that will dissipate eventually. He decides on his own that he is mistaken based on the grey-faced looking woman that suddenly covers his vision of the spotted ceiling. Instinctively, he cowers away from her and wonders why on the round, beautiful, green earth that he inhabits comfortably enough, he would choose this 'lovely' creature to while away an evening of drunk and high amusement.
         He sprawled on the uncomfortable mattress and mused to himself, aware her mouth was moving but not caring what inanities came out of it. Perhaps it had something to do with the promises of lemon pie she had made among other suggestions that appealed to his morbid mind at that time. He always was a sucker for pie when high! He chuckled to himself, then winced again.
         Deciding it was time to end this macabre situation, he slowly rolled away from her, ignoring her insulted look. He couldn't be bothered to care.
         This tired and suddenly nerved man simply wanted to escape her pawing hands and what looked like a spiked belt dangling off the edge of the bed. Shuddering with revulsion, afraid to even think about what part that item had played in the night's events, he grimaced at the sight of the bruises on his legs. Deciding to make his exit immediately and before any other promises were made, he continued rolling and swung his legs determinedly over the edge of the bed.
         Ignoring the shooting pain that jumped into his legs when he hit the ground, he grabbed his things, rapidly got into them and ran out the door with a final, "Thanks!" over his shoulder. His last glimpse of her was of dirty sunlight escaping into the room through a partially covered window, lighting up her shocked face and a prone body still reaching to him.
         With a guilty conscience, he didn't stop however. He ran, without a second backwards look to the now shut door. "Coward", he thought bitterly to himself. "What will it take for me to learn?"