He sat on the roof, staring up at the sky. His long, blonde hair was tied up, multiple strands blowing free in the breeze. He reached a hand up and brushed them behind his ears, his dark, carmel-coloured eyes never leaving the maze of stars that dotted the sky.

He let out a deep sigh, breaking his fixation with the stars, and looked out at the neighborhood. Today was hell he thought, pulling a pre-rolled joint out of his pocket. He lit it and took a long drag, letting the taste and smell of the marijuana calm his nerves. Today was worse than hell, he thought. Today was shit.

He closed his eyes, the angry voices once again filling his head.

"Zachary! Clean this up now!"

"Zac! You're off-beat! Get it right!"

"Zac, get off your lazy ass and do something productive for a change!"

"Good God, Zac, can't you do anything right?"

He opened his eyes again and took another drag, his mind clouding over. He looked over the side of the roof, a stoned smile creeping to his lips.

What if I just jumped off the roof? Broke a leg, or something? Then they'd care...

He grinned and stood up carefully. He wobbled a bit, chuckling to himself, and looked down at the ground.

Woah, this is high...

He laughed.

This is a great plan. God, Zac, you're a genius. Mother would be proud.

He lost his footing and quickly grabbed hold of the roof before he fell. His mind cleared a bit, and he looked down at the ground.

What the fuck am I doing?

Carefully, he began to settle back into the seated postion he had been in a while ago.

A shingle slipped out from under his foot.

A cry was let out as he fell face-first towards the pavement of the back porch. He closed his eyes, waiting for the impact. As he fell, his oldest brother's face floated into his mind.

"Good God, Zac, can't you do anything right?"