Friday, June 17, 2016

Laura



“I think it’s starting to… wow…” as her words hit my ears subtle alteration, (the bitch of a muse I always chased after) made herself known.

I felt the first pin prick of godlike euphoria as we watched the mid-day clouds roll across the horizon and sent our prayers to whichever Chinese chemist had created this portal to heaven. 

“So this is methylone… cool.”

“I have some percs they might help with the crash,” Laura said nearly whispering.

“I’m down. How much?”

“It’s all good. You can’t put a price on days like today.”

Laura sat up and started digging through her purse while I obsessively ran my hand through my hair

“You wana do a line first?” she asked

“Yeeeeaaahhh. There’s uh…”

“My mind fumbled for the right word.

“That bathroom over there.”

“’Okay,”

We stood up (relishing every second of it), and walked across the park to the public bathroom catty-cornered from The Fountain. A beautiful product of our little corner of the world, The Fountain stood in the middle of Gateway Park. Art Deco inspired stone and porcelain scrawled with a mural of graffiti left behind by Banksy-lite art students (with the occasional crude scribblings of an edgy teenager or two) it was something that everyone in town could recognize… which, considering the number of people in this town who had a hard enough time recognizing themselves, was saying a lot.

An icy rush flooded my synapses as the grainy powder flew up my nose. Afterwards, we each popped 15mgs of fulfilment and made our way back to the bluff.

“I wish I could feel like this forever,”

“No you don’t… I mean don’t get me wrong this is fucking awesome but it isn’t worth it you know chasing the dragon and all that. Trust me… it isn’t worth it,” (There goes the warning shot).

“I guess so… I heard about all the shit that happened with Amy,”

“Yeah, it happens,” I said. Despite my best efforts I still struggled when it came to escapism.

Laura had kind eyes and a laugh that lit people up. She’d always been beautiful. She’d always been a good person the exact opposite of myself, (hell, the question of whether or not I was a person anymore was something I constantly wrestled with). No matter how desperately I wished I could be, I wasn’t the type to leave well enough alone. When I found a good person I did everything I could to kill off their character. Childhood friends were no exception.

“It’s crazy. I never thought it was possible to feel like… whatever this is and hanging out with you again… It’s been nice. You’ve changed a lot since high school.”

“Heh, yeah it’s a trip to think about all that. It seems like such a long time ago,”

“Do you remember when you convinced Jeff you were a serial killer?”

“Yeah I do,” I laughed.

“Good times… in a round-about way,”

She smiled and adjusted her sunglasses.

“Will you be good to drive later? I feel really fucked up. I hardly ever take pecrs. I just keep a few for special occasions. They’ve just been sitting there you know… ever since my mom got sick,”

“Yeah, I’ll be straight… That sucks your mom and everything.”

“It’s okay. She’s in a better place,”

Every fiber of my being from my fucked up brain to my withered heart wanted to believe in the idea of better places.
 
“If you’re tired of percs I know a few people who can get… other things,”

“Like what?” she asked with the faintest hint of hesitation.

“Ever try H?”

“Heroin? No, isn’t it really addictive?”

“It can be, but it’s not what people say it is. It’s all about willpower ya know? You’ve just gotta be careful and stay away from needles. That’s rule number one, keep that in mind and you’ll be alright…”

“I mean, I guess it couldn’t hurt to call. I just never pictured you as… well, never mind. It’s all good,”

“Let me give dude a call,”

“Okay…”

That was the tipping point. That was the day I lost my soul.

Fin.

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