Tat
He sat in his usual beginning of year spot, the empty Attic of the school cathedral. He didn't have anyone to say goodbye to at his "home" and had left a few hours earlier than necessary, while everyone was sleeping so he could avoid an argument or anything of the likes breaking out. He knew what his mother and step-dad thought of him, and they jumped at the chance to remind him.

He opened a fresh pack of Marborol Reds and be out gone to his mouth, lighting it with the white zippo he had on him at all times. He hadn't always been a smoker, but he found out over the summer that nicotine eased his nerves and took the edge off. He took a long drag and inhaled, blowing it out slowly as he thumbed the filter, knocking off any excess ash.