3:26 AM August 3rd, 2009

Sam Monroe had done it again. Though, you didn't think that prostitution was an idea he would take seriously. Who it was, you didn't know. All you knew is that he had a close run in with the cops and it scared him pretty badly. Sam had called you just an hour earlier, leaving you to piece together his awful night during the anticipation of his arrival. He sat on your bed, knees tucked to his chest as he stared off into space. You made him take a shower when he got there and change his clothes, to which he refused a shirt. Su1c1de attempts, drugs and the general teenage rebellion act weren't rare for you to witness. It often terrified you, scratching mercilessly at the repressed emotions that engulfed your being upon being given the chance to tale care of the troubled boy. "I don't even know why the fuck I did it. I didn't even like him." Sam murmured, his voice raspy and agitated. Luckily, the incident was broken up before things had actually gotten explicit.