I haven’t spoken about this since it happened, you know – mental trauma and shit. Makes me quiver every time I think about it, wanna piss me pants. But I’m getting ahead of me self, this goes back a wee while to me mate Sean’s house.
See, we were having us a little get together, me, Sean and Charlie. They had already lit up the horse pipe, and the bloody sun hadn’t even gone down. Sean lived in a shabby looking apartment complex, surrounded by a bunch of fuckin’ narcs. But we kept things quite, basking in the nutty radiant vapours of some of the best China White you’ve ever had.
I watched the heroin lump start to collapse and simmer, it turned a syrupy brown and the fumes rolled up from the test tube and gently whirled into the straw as I sucked on it. It tasted sweet over my tongue, but as some of the vaporised heroin dissolved in my mouth the bitter sting crawled over my palate.
I steadied myself for a moment, Sean and Charlie looking on intently – they hated waiting their turn. I pulled in one more long slow breath and eased away the make-shift smack pipe. Charlie relieved me of it and stared his own private ritual of intoxication.
My legs were starting to tingle, growing gradually more numb until my toes felt like mere shadows swaying in the night breeze. Bliss started bellowing up through my body like the bellows of sugary smoke – only without the bitter aftertaste. My vision slipped quietly into a blurry distorted state; I did nothing to fight it.
Anyway, what sane man would fight against heaven in a puff? I wasn’t addicted to it really, well, a little. I did the odd bit of stealing here and there, maybe conned an old lady or two out of a few grand. It’s amazing what habits you can afford if you apply yourself properly.
I could hear Charlie moaning as the mental orgasm surged through him, Sean was probably at it now – but he always mixed in a bit of coke for added effect. Speed-balling motherfucker.
Slowly drifting on the joy of absolute apathy. Fuck the world, I didn’t need those useless bastards. Me and me mates had it perfect; all the smack, coke, meth, acid, pot, E, peyote and Special K our hearts could desire. You don’t pay reality much heed when you’ve got company like that.
“Greg…”
“Greg… Wake up man!”
He was jerking hard at me shirt sleeve, stretching the bloody thing. I opened one eye and could see the sinner was Charlie. He was pale and his eyes looked as absent as I’m sure mine were.
“What?” I asked harshly.
“It’s Sean,” he mumbled. “Fucked out of his mind.”
I turned my dazed attention toward the brown, piss-stained couch where Sean reclined with his feet toward me. I know pale, heroin fucks with your circulatory system, but Sean looked ghostly. His chest was slowly heaving, like the deck of an oil tanker in a storm. He was alive, but looked like shit. Sweat was soaking the couch where his body touched it.
“Shit,” I remarked, somewhat linguistically delayed. I explained to Charlie that our mate was standing at heaven’s gates, waiting for the ol’ Peter to crack the latch open. We had to get the poor shit to a hospital or it’d be tickets for him. Charlie’s colour retuned a bit when he heard this. He focused and pulled himself together.
The good thing about smoking heroin is that it doesn’t hit as hard or as long as shooting. You could easily get things done if you needed to, and we bloody well needed to. We each grabbed a side – I got the smelly sweaty feet – and we started lugging the bleak mess out of there. Three storey’s worth of stairs, and Sean wasn’t the lightest fella.
My car was parked near the building’s door. As we carried Sean out the door and toward the car we ran into one of them fuckin’ narcs I was telling you ‘bout. Old bitch eyed us something fierce, but we gave her that ‘We’ll fuck you up’-look and she butted the fuck out.
After about five minutes of lethargic struggling we finally had him in the back of my rusty old 1967 Chevy Zephyr. Its engine roared to life and we started toward the hospital. It was about ten minutes on the highway, so we’d hopefully get him there on time.
Charlie kept fidgeting at my side as I tried to keep my mind on the slippery road – fresh snow made things a bit unpredictable. I turned toward him and yelled at him to shut the fuck up.
I must’ve not seen the robot ahead of me, ‘cause I drove over the red light and one of those eighteen wheelers they use to transport cables with hit us on the right side. The impact threw me into Charlie and Sean was ripped from his seat – I could see the glass break as he went flying out the window.
I might have been strung out, but at that moment I could notice very damned detail. The feeling of safety-glass tearing up my face, the taste of blood in my mouth, the loud crack as my pelvis crunched.
The car came to a halt in a cloud of smoke and horror. The door had ripped open and torn Charlie to bits, I could literally see his ribs. He was dead before he knew it. The horror of seeing that made me sober up.
I didn’t notice that my pelvis was shattered until I tried to get up, stepping out of the car. I crashed down with a shriek of pain. I crawled away from the car as fast as I could, the smell of petrol was thick in the air. When I looked to my side I could see Sean in a puddle of his own blood…
The guy in the truck was in good enough condition to help me. When the paramedics came they noticed a faint pulse on Sean and got him breathing again after some time. He stabilised after about two weeks, but he hasn’t woken up yet.
And me? Well, that’s basically why you’re here my loyal friend. I got walking again after a year and a half of therapy, but the drugs haven’t been the same. Something’s just gone for me, and if that’s how it’s gonna be I rather go out swinging.
Reckon thousand milligrams of China should do it, knock me out in a blaze of glory. I’ll go to sleep among the stars now, thanks for listening. Live fast, die young, you know?