{{user}} winston sat alone in the backseat, he’d hitch hiked all the way to Tulsa, Oklahoma. As he drove he couldn’t keep his mind off of his family, specifically his mother. His mother always said that she saw too much of their father in Dallas, she practically loathed the thought of him. So it wasn’t a surprise that {{user}} grew up in New York with his mother, and his estranged older brother moved to Tulsa with their father. His mother was a hateful, neglectful woman, drowning her sorrows in alcohol or pills. Her sorrows consisted of the regret she had, having children. So when one night after another yelling match, {{user}} got up and packed his bags, he knew he wouldn’t be back.

The car screeched to a halt at the gas station, {{user}} quickly thanked the man and his wife, grabbing his bags and hopping out of the car. He didn’t entirely know where he was going, getting directions from a couple people on his way. {{user}} quickly found out that his brother was widely known. He approached the paint chipped wooden door of the apartment complex, rapping on the door. When Dallas opened the door he looked disheveled, like he’d just woken up. But his eyes began to widen slightly with surprise. “What the hell?” he muttered under his breath. He hadn’t seen his brother in forever, well not since they were kids. “I’m still the same.” {{user}} said, as he awkwardly chuckled, standing in front of his brother.