Friday, July 18th 2014. New Orleans, Lousiana. 11:00am
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There was one thing looming in his mind at this point. Did he feed Jack this morning? Shit, he didn't did he? Oh well. It wasn't going to cause much harm. He thought, Probably. Shit, he really should go home soon. But it's hot. Really hot. Now that he thought about it, he had a bunch of stuff to do, did he find the photo of the class yet? Did Ms. Deville have any tea left? He needed a spot of tea, perhaps some scones would be nice. He sighed and pulled his shirt fabric off of him, it stuck and clung on to his thin frame, worse thing was that he felt disgusted by it. Every time he felt disgust, he would remember the nights where his father would whisper in his ear, vile words, haunting him, words that the never stopped ringing after a week. Like he was an evil creature made out of maggots, as if they were crawling under his skin, trying to dig out. His blood was the only place they were satisfied with. Ah, he could feel it itching, again. He needs to scratch, it itches, it itches... It itches, it really itches. It really really itches. It won't stop itching. Itching, itching. Make it stop itching... It itches. It itches underneath his throat. 

SPLASH.

Without as so much as realizing it, everything was thrown onto the ground. The bags he was carrying that contained the soda, the juices. Everything. He could hear the sound of the liquids bursting out in a gassy leak. Ah, his hands were on his neck, nails on the verge of being dug deep. He somehow was brought back to reality through the hissing sounds of the soft drinks. He really shouldn't be remembering crap like that. It wasn't necessary. This was why he hated the heat. He blinked those brown eyes for a moment. Shit, he had to go buy more now. He couldn't bring the drinks back like this. The bottles of wine and beer were cracked in pieces, shards gleaming in the light. Ah shit. Looks like Kirk's going to be a bit late for now. The old lady was gonna be breathing down his neck. He then went back to the store on his feet, grabbing the plastic bags and throwing them in a nearby bin on the way there. 

And then he arrived at the door about an hour later. [i]2 hours late. The old lady ain't gonna be happy about this.[/i] He walked up through the school before reaching the building. He walked up onto the porch and was about to enterThere he met a woman, obviously rich, in style and a person who was up to date in everything. She was one of the classmates that joined him once wasn't it? Right, they had a complete buffet ready to go in the house. "Ehehe, hey there. You were once part of the class weren't you? Here, I'll open the door. Come right in, Ms. Deville will be happy to see you." He smiled in a way that made nearly every girl go "awwww" before he let the door open and called out. "Ms Deville! It's me, Dere- I mean Kirk. Sorry I'm late. I fell over and had to go back. Anyways, there's a young woman here, I think she was part of the class." Shit, he almost forgot his own name. Damn, he'd been so used to be calling Derek. With that thought in mind, he welcomed the girl in and went into the kitchen, noticing the dark red rag on the counter. As he placed the drinks in the fridge, he couldn't help but think. 

[i]It still itches.[/i]