trashing the camp [character]

He was incredibly wasteful, that much was clear. Not only was his trash can over-flowing, but the "recycling bin" had now been littered with half-empty jars of jelly and soda bottles with the tops cut off. The bag sagged inside the can, holding onto the precious liquid that had spewed out of the five month old eggs he had left for too long and hastily thrown away when discovered. Abandoned hopes lay in the tangle of wires of the rescued electronics found at the thrift store, nothing could be done. Tucked in the corner, poking a hole in the side of the bag was a sterling silver ring with a spot of blood on it, stained into the stainless steel and reminiscent of a bar-fight that got personal. The remains of his attempt at responsibility, wrapped up twice in three plastic bags tossed in with a bag of pet food that expired years ago. Scratched discs, "designs" carved into that 15.99 CD he'd pulled from the shelves undetected.

You couldn't tell if he was clean or not. A moldy glass gingerly placed near the bottom, a taste of milk left on his nightstand after passing out before he could drink it. Tiny flakes of glitter and a soiled Valentine's Day card lay flat at the bottom, straining at the thin plastic. Another tear had begun on the left, a partially destroyed box that had been ripped open in excitement. A garbage romance novel, the cover showing off two ludicrously muscled men in the arms of the other, wind-blown hair glistening in the glossy light of the hazy book cover.

The room reeked, a foul smell sinking into the walls as he was left unattended. His nose stained white and his eyes staring into some blank abyss far from there. His arms splayed out by his side, holding a dollar bill and a metal cigarette case.