A short sob story

Story by Lost Wolf on SoFurry

, , , ,

Here is a very short story. I am going to say everything its not. Good.


The lone wolf just sighed and stared at his computer screen and t.v. searching for someone to talk to, but alas no one. The wolf just felt like crying at this point. His mate didn't even share anything with him and he hated people mocking him because it was a long distance relationship. where he lived the gene pool and selection was shallower then the water at the shore of a beach. She was what he was looking for; he hoped she was atleast. He didn't care if it was a dude. He just wanted someone to love and talk to. That's all he wanted. He had a few friends but none were on tonight. So now isolated and alone sitting in his cold, dark room he laughed. He laughed at the cliche he now relized he was in, but the laugh didn't last long when it kicked in that he had no one to talk to. when he was still in elementry school he didn't care about friend. He was made fun of a lot and everyone thought he was weird, but he had his Playstation 2. Man games were bitchin good for it since online gaming wasn't the main aspect as it today. Today you need the internet and you need friends, because mainly games suck and you lose intrest in half of them in 5 minutes. He liked PC gaming more though because games aren't just cheaper but better. The games he liked anyway.

So the wolf just sighed again and still stared into his computer screen. His mate just ignoring him now didn't make him feel loved. He felt like that person who was there just to piss off an ex. He hated being alone. Before the next gen consoles were released he had plenty of friends to talk to but now it was just him again. Sad that his only way of talking to people was with the internet. he rarely hanged out with anyone. mostly because 75% of the time he had to pay for gas money. which he didn't have and his PC was a gift he picked out for himself since his sister was planing on getting him a car and it was 2,000 dollar budget. So to add to being lonely in a cold, dark room he was also poor. The money was from a settlement that she won. So again he sighed and strangly that was the only thing his brain told him to do other then hold back tears.

The wolf's heart was in pain since he was having a conflict within his head about his mate. It torn into him like a hot katana through butter. He needed to get his brain off the subject before he drove himself to suicide. He didn't want a heart anymore just a black hole of hate. He envied people who seemed to have no soul. The ability to not feel constant pain. His drug use was getting pretty bad too. Everyday he wanted to get high. it did help alot but he knew he couldn't offered such a thing. isn't funny how the poor always are hooked on drugs and alchohal and middle class looks down on them. Well THE POOR DON'T USE FRUIT AS DECORATION. He hated that his friends had a middle class lifestyle. He couldn't affored to hang out and the only job open was a night shift were he would basically lose one of the few things that kept him stable. the wolf was now angry and depressed. angry since most people that are middle class don't understand what it is like to be poor. Like really when you use toliet paper as tissues because you don't have the money to affored tissues it kinda well it kinda sucks. To add to his cold room his whole window was covered in a thick frost. Tonight the wolf had tissues and he was using them quickly. The tears were hard to hold back now and it was hard for him to think.

He wanted out of this shithole of a home he had, and it was a shithole. I might look nice in the living room and dinning room but everywhere else it was showing no matter how hard his dad tried to hide it. The upstairs bathroom the only one with a bathtub half the floor was rotten out. The downstairs bathroom was about as wide a door and about as high as one too. anyway he just hated his life. The more depressed he got the harded it was to do anything. The more breakdowns he had the harded it got to get out of bed to make sure he wouldn't freeze to death and check the wood stove. The wolf just wanted to escape, but each day it got harded for him to be able to even think of such a thing. To be able to live a middle class lifestyle was only a day dream. He wondered how everone else in his situation or worse could be so cheery. What helped him was by doing nothing and ignoring his reality and living in his reality. Which he couldn't tell was good for his mental health or not. I mean sure sometimes he forgot what reality looked like, but yeah it isn't healthy. The wolf didn't know what he wanted to do. All he did was eat and play video games, but his greatest dream was kinda filled in. He wanted to see the world. He wanted to know what the world looked like other then trees and trees.

The wolf just got lost in his thought of games. He wanted to share his ideas with people. All he had growing up was an imagination and a video game console he didn't really have that many friends to hang out with so he made some up to fill the void. When he got bored of a game he pretened it was something else. The only thing he did in school was sleep and day dream. He got hated high school. The fucking teacher for history only talked about how little she gets payed but she has enough money to explore the carribean. Also she says how good the mill is and how only low life drug users get fired. His dad works there and that isn't the case. it's kinda like E.T. the video game. yeah its that bad.

you know I tried to figure out the direction of this story and the purpose of it but as who ever wrote this is an asshole. I mean really its a fucking terrible shitty poor excuses as a story. here is my personal letter the the Author.

"Dear Sir and/or Maddam,

Please go fuck yourself and die. You are truely an asshole. Your writting skills suck terribly and reading your story is like staring at a manuer factory. yes it is that shitty. I mean really trying to read this is like trying to solve a fucking puzzle. You talk about one thing and then about another thing. Can you not make up your fucking mind? you know you're a fucking asshole. you asshole.

Your's truly,

The Narrator of your shitty sob stories you asshat. "

"P.S. Get a FUCKING LIFE!"