What Do You Think Of Saints

Skye knew it was a dream but that was the easy part. Waking was the harder one.

He was in his room again, staring at six year old him hiding in the closet. He could tell his Mother was probably sniffing him out already. Astrid liked to do that a lot when she was drunk, hunt Skye down but he knew if he stayed long enough in the closet, she wouldn't find him because his smell would mix with the one of his clothes, and usually, she never did.

Except at that moment, the door to the closet suddenly opened as his Mother's wild eyes glowed sadistically in the dark. "Found you."

He jolted up from the bed he was in, a curse leaving his lips at the headache he was feeling. Beside him was the naked body of a girl that he could scarcely remember what her name was as he slid out the bed, now putting on some sweatpants while he stayed his shirtless.

On his back was a tattoo. A tree tattoo with branches that crossed all over it, bearing no leaf. Most women who saw it always liked to touch it, asking