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Personal Narrative: The Warheads

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Personal Narrative: The Warheads
Drowsy morning, like always. Waking up in this hole of an apartment doesn't get easier with the years, like I thought it would. Watching the sun try and fight its way through my blinds always reminds me that I should be waking up earlier. After all, the package isn't gonna deliver itself.
Getting out of bed takes an eternity. As soon as I got up, I went straight to the bathroom, and tried to freshen up. Looking into the mirror, I saw a face that hasn't seen care in a while. -„I look worse than I feel“- I found myself exclaiming. Freshening up, I stagger my way to the wardrobe, and try to pick out what rags im going to wear today. I put my usual gear on. „The Warheads“ they called us. A bunch of bandits and cutpurses. But I always preffered
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