Snippet #945414

Victor opened the door and walked up the stairs to the apartment. He was wearing a hooded jumper, jeans and sneakers, he was carrying a plastic bag in where bottles could be heard clirring, the possibility that they were beers were high. These things were worth gold on the streets, drinks, clothes and warmth during the winter however they would also be a magnet to thieves and people who wanted to fight. Why the was Victor here again? Hell, he hated it here, he did better on the streets than he did here with his so-called family.
Victor stopped and looked at the last set of stairs that let up to the apartment of his wanna-be family. They weren't his family, no, he lost his family when he left his house...Well...At least when they had a house. Looking to his right he opened the window in the staircase and threw the empty beer bottles out of the window and down into the bush, at least the hobos and homeless would enjoy from the money they could get from the bottles, and then he took the soon-to-be-opened bottles and stuck them into his pants and went up the stairs.

As he opened the door to his family's apartment, Tom, the man of the house and former military soldier, sat in the living room, looking at the door. "Where were you?"
"Getting some air."
"Is that so?" Tom said and then stood up and marched over to Victor and took a deep breath through his nose, trying to detect the least bit of negating from cigarettes. Thankfully Victor hadn't smoked this time, for Tom's nose actually worked.
"If you want to say hello to me like a dog, then get down on all four and sniff my ass. Isn't that what you dogs of war do?"
"watch what you say boy! We do more for this country than your brain can handle."
"Is that what you said to your friend, Greg?...Was the honor of being in service too much for him too?" Victor asked, referring to the dead friend that Tom lost while he was in service, and bringing him up usually did the trick.
"Go to your room!"
"Sure, send me to the meat grinders as well!"
"That's enough Victor! You shut up and be glad you have a home!"
"This isn't my home...Neither you, nor that ho in the kitchen is my parents. I did better on the streets than I did here."
"Don't you talk about a woman like that you-" Tom didn't get further before Victor had slammed the door and turned on the radio, putting on a disc of techno music and turned up the volume.

"Lord Jesus Christ...why was schools made in the first place?" Victor said out loud and then got out a book called "Gangs of Manchester." He had admired the European hooligans, they fought over something they loved to the point of death. One day, Victor would run off to Europe and join one of these 'Firms', as they called them, and then beat the living shit out of some Europes.
Nodding his head to the beats of the techno music and reading the only book he liked, he killed time quickly.

Victor's room wasn't much, a bed, a desk with a light, his radio/stereo, and a shelf with books. He didn't like the books that were on the shelf, save for this one book.
Touching the necklace that he had around his neck, the one true object he had kept since he was thrown on the streets, and the only thing that made him feel at home. The necklace had one and a half word written in it "I Lo" and then the other half of the broken heart had "ve You". It meant everything to him, and he would kill anyone that would try to take this necklace from him.