“He? So you know whose stuff this is?”
Conner rolled his eyes at me. Eyes that used to contain kindness and sympathy had grown to hold nothing but hatred and contempt. “Stop asking so many fucking questions and help us carry this shit out.” His smirk twisted into a sick, knowing smile. “Or don’t. But then I can’t promise that we’re going to be as gentle with you tonight as we were last night.”
I’d never liked guns. Even my dad’s hunting gun that he kept on display in his office made me uncomfortable.
But then Conner said something that reminded me that if I had a gun, I could never pull the trigger. “Or maybe I’ll call Mellie and she can ride my cock for a while,” Conner said, stepping up into my space, glaring down at me with all the hatred in his soul. “Oh, that’s right. I can’t. Because she’s dead.”
The familiar guilt bubbled in my gut and exploded in my heart. The heavy, never ending, too much for one soul to bare, guilt. It was what the bars of my imaginary cell were made out of, the one Conner built around me with his words, the one he’d just pushed me back inside and slammed the door shut.
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Mirna sang, coming to stand beside me at the door. Her hand on my shoulder. Conner backed down and went back to work, stuffing his bag. “But would any of you like some cookies?” she asked, holding up a plate of her famous double chocolate chip cookies. Eric and Conner ignored her, continuing to loot the room of its plants and damage and destroy everything else.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, turning around to Mirna. Without caring if she remembered me or not I wrapped my arms around her, selfishly needing the comfort of my grandma. The same way I’d needed it when I’d broken her tea set.
She gently patted me on the back, “It’s all right, dear,” she said, pulling back and holding up the plate again. “Don’t be upset. Whatever’s bothering you will be okay, there’s always tomorrow and that’s another day.” She took a bite of a cookie and spoke with her mouth full. “My Rick always says that when I’m having a bad day. Here, have a cookie. I just made them. They’re Samuel’s favorite.”
There was that name again.
“Who’s Samuel?” I asked, expecting to hear about someone from her past, or someone long dead, but then out of the corner of my eye I noticed that both Conner and Eric had froze. My guess was that they knew who Samuel was, and if I had any money at all, I’d bet that this was his shit.
“Where is he now?” Eric asked, the cocky smile nowhere to be seen.
Mirna took another a bite of her cookie, slowly chewing. A car door slammed. She waited until she was done swallowing to say, “He’s here.”
Conner and Eric darted through the back door faster than I’d ever seen them move. My first instinct wasn’t to run. I didn’t want to leave Mirna in her state, and on top of that I hadn’t done any of the actual stealing. Chances were that this Samuel guy wouldn’t see it that way. I hesitated only long enough to wrap Mirna in another hug. “Again, I’m so sorry,” I said, placing a kiss on her forehead before running through the living room and out the back door.
“Come on!” Conner called out, waving to me from the field behind the house that lead to the train tracks. But then I stopped.
It could be my only chance, and if I wanted to be on that bus tomorrow I didn’t have a choice. I had to take it.
With one last glance at Conner I shook off the voice of the guilt, the voice that told me I owed him for what I’d done, and I took off in the complete opposite direction, crossing the yard into the woods. I heard him calling my name over and over again as I ran deeper into the trees, down the overgrown foot path.
The bark of a nearby tree suddenly exploded, sharp pieces of bark lodged into my thighs, warm blood trickled down my calves. My heart pumped faster and faster. My body, who wanted nothing more than to give up on me, warred with my mind which was fueled only by adrenaline, keeping me moving, one foot in front of the other.
A whistling sounded past my ear. Another tree exploded. This time, right in front of me. I stopped and turned around, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing in Mirna’s back yard. I started right back again in the other direction. I hadn’t been able to see much of the man, but I knew right then what I had seen would be burned into my brain and haunt me forever.
A wicked smile, a bow tie…and a gun.
CHAPTER THREE
DRE
What the fuck have I done?
It was the thought racing through my head, over and over again, as I watched the world go on without me from my perch high up on the water tower. Over the tops of the bending pines, just beyond the leaves, was the small town of Logan’s Beach, a place I’d once loved.
Despite the way I was circling the drain, and much to my surprise, there were signs of life everywhere. Cars drove up and down the two lane road below. Lights flickered on and off. The faint smell of BBQ wafted through the air. Echoing bass from music playing somewhere in the distance vibrated off the cold metal platform, thudding softly underneath me in rhythmic succession. The ground below appeared flattened, much like I imagined the earth would look from space.
It was all so far, far away.
Somewhere down there, eating the food and dancing to that music, were people. Happy people. I remembered the last day I was happy. A slow running silent movie, except in vivid technicolor. I could recall every single smile, every laugh, every exaggerated hand gesture as stories and jokes were exchanged.
It was how it ended that haunted me. A scene that never drifted far from the screen playing it on a loop over and over again in my nightmares.
With the back of a shaky hand I wiped the tears from my cheek, smudging my heavy black eye-makeup across my face.
My stomach suddenly wretched. However, no amount of purging could expel the kind of decaying impurities keeping me trapped in a life I hated. I breathed in and out slowly, in an attempt to gather my thoughts and quell the nausea, but despite my efforts to hold my shit together, the world spun. A violent pain slashed behind my eyes like someone was trying to hack their way out of my skull.
Despite everything, I still wanted it. Craving the high that had nothing to do with being up on the water tower.
Heroin.
I don’t remember who got it or when we first decided to try it. I only remember the wave of euphoria that took over that very first time.
I was lost and somewhere along the way heroin took notice and moved in and took my place. It decided my every move. It was the reason behind my every terrible decision. It didn’t just take over my life. It was my life. The more the heroin did the thinking for me, the less I had to do for myself. Heroin allowed me a retreat that sobriety couldn’t.
An oblivion.