"How's about you get up and give me a little attention before you get going, I'm lonely..." Came that l.u.s.t filled voice again. Stirring slightly, a figure could be seen wrapped in a blanket while facing the wall. The old room gave a rather decrepit feeling, like a bad 70's style motel room, complete with worn out pink s.h.a.g carpet, tube style box TV and mid-height carpeted walls. The wooden, four posted bed sat in a corner facing the window that looked out on the silent street. The cream color walls blended horribly with the brown curtains and did little to make the room look cheery. A low groan could be heard from under the blanket as a figure started tossing around, angry at the interruption.

"BABY!?! Come on, I need it, right now." The woman's voice moaned. "Just slide over here and put those hands on me. Rough me up. Lay those strong hands on me and shove those fingers where ever you want."

By now the lump in the bed was awake and groaning, turning over reluctantly to take care of this little problem.

"I promise I won't move. I just want you to make me feel good. Come on, you played with me all last night. Time to get in a little more action before you have to go." She whined, clearly challenging the now moving lump.

"Oh, I will give it to you so hard you won't be able to say anything else this morning," the surprisingly young voice responded before reaching his hand out and swiping the alarm off b.u.t.ton on his phone. Why am I actually responding to my phone alarm Laz thought to himself. Am I really that pathetic? Getting up from the bed in only his boxers, Laz looked around the room lazily before making his way to the closet, taking care to avoid the cheap tray table stand that held the TV. His overly thin, pale white body was only slightly muscled and didn't move with any grace. The small room held only the bed and the TV along with an ugly palm tree style floor lamp. After grabbing some clothes from the pile on the floor, Laz made his way into the bathroom and turn on the water in the tub before looking at himself in the mirror. His slight 1.8 meter height was perfectly accented by his lifeless short-cut black hair and ordinary facial features. The only thing that he could give himself a good rating on was his eyes. They were a deep and piercing blue that that caused most people to be unable to stare in them for long. Not that many people would. Laz's full name was Lazarus Crowe. His parents were rather eccentric nature loving people and thought that Lazarus was a fine name for a baby. Laz was what he came up with after being made fun of during his first few school years. There was almost nothing he could do about sharing a similar last name with a man who was made famous in the southern US for his amazingly racial segregation laws. Fortunately, it wasn't exactly the same. At only 14 years of age this year, his rather strange living situation would actually be somewhat enviable for most. Living by himself, even if it is in a rather dingy apartment, is every teenager's dream. Laz however, could not be considered happy.

Frowning to himself, Laz removed his boxers and hopped in, regretting that there was no shower head. From the moment his feet hit the water, the apartment suddenly came alive with one loud "FUUUUCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!" The water was freezing cold. After running for over five minutes, the water should have at least went warm by now, but apparently the water heater was broken again. A pounding on the wall awoke Laz to the fact that he was alone in the apartment, but not the building.

"LAZ, keep your voice down. Your grandma is sleeping," Came the comment from the the downstairs apartment where his grandfather lived. Ol' man Crowe owned the apartments where Laz lived, call "The Shack." For a complex that had 18 apartments, there was only 4 that were in use. Laz lived in apartment 9 while his grandfather was is apartment 1, right next to the drive that lead to the parking lot. It used to be a bonus that there was off street parking back when the building was built, now it was just another expense his grandpa had to keep up.

"Got it grandpa," Laz yelled down to his feet. He just sighed to himself knowing that today was a day his grandma was "alive." She has been buried for almost 6 years and although his grandpa knew that, he also had days he didn't know that. That would mean a rough day, but they happen. Laz didn't care much about the bad days. He knew it was the price he paid. As long as his grandpa was ok most days, he could continue to stay here. If something were to happen to him, he would probably be taken by CPS. He wasn't old enough to actually live by himself yet, at least not by government standards.

Gritting his teeth, Laz squated down and lowered his head under the faucet to rinse his hair, the ice cold water sent needles into his scalp, making it seemed the the worst headache ever, but he endured. No matter what, he always endured. After quickly was.h.i.+ng the rest of himself, Laz climbed out of the tub and reached for the towel that wasn't there. Blinking the water out of his eyes, he realized he had left it on the floor outside the bathroom yesterday. Moving the curtain that separated the rooms to the side, Laz reached down to grab the towel and before he realized it, his right foot slipped back, propelling him forward. After hitting the floor face first with his forehead, Laz let out a m.u.f.fed "d.a.m.n it," and turned over to face the ceiling. The throbbing pained mixed with the bright sunlight from the window hitting his eyes did nothing to make the day any better.