Well
So there i was. cold shivering, walking through town in the dead of night, flicking at my mobile phone, the battery dying but anxiously waiting for a call to come through. I see a bench, vacant, like me, and i'm weary, this is my 3rd day awake in a row, i shuffle over to it, my arms and legs limp and raw, my fingers start buzzing, My phone! At last, i paw at the keys, it connects, and i hear a voice rasp, "yeah", i'm not impressed, i've been waiting for this call for hours and he has the nerve to sound like some retard chimpanze that's just come out a of a coma, but i keep my thoughts to myself. "You got the stuff?", i enquire, my teeth chattering in the cold, "Sure it's right here in front of me". Well fucking great, another 4 mile walk just to get ripped off, but i'm not complaining, he's been always been there for me to take my money, whatever time of night or day, not unlike the other class of scum that's on the street, they're not even old enough to have their own house yet, selling out of someone else's garden, i bet they're all tucked up in bed with their computer games and dumb school girl friends, easy money to them, sell some drugs here, take a few there, "the good life" or so they say, but i'm rambling now, "ok, i'll you in a bit" i mutter down the phone, i hang up, switch off the phone in the safe knownledge that i'm not popular or wanted enough to be called back tonight, or any other for that matter, put the coat in my pocket and set off into the night.

It's not a bad night tonight, the drunken parties ended about an hour ago, just as i was coming too in an empty carpark, and everyone's going home to be happy tommorow, the joy of christmas, or so they say. A chill breeze slithers through the streets, i pull my worn leather jacket around me, a thin holey t-shirt and some baggy jeans that haven't been washed for days, i'm also at his house now, i walk up to the intercom, press it twice, a call sign, the police only ring once, he answers, not waiting for him to speak i say "it's me". I'm in, walking up four flights of stairs, the door's on the latch and i walk right in, he's sat alone, which was strange, day or night there's always a few people knocking around, but apparently hospitality isn't high on his list tonight, i reach into my jacket, and toss him a half torn, worn out £20 note, it's all i have left, there are 4 needle's out on the table, i look quizzically at him, "merry christmas" is all he says, i don't argue, free drugs are never to be passed up on, but there will be no enjoy, as i need these to stay awake, i need these to feel something, just that one last token hit of magic, "yeah and a happy fucking new year", i say back, i scoop up the needles and head to the bathroom.

Bent spoons and used needles lie in the path, torn towel everywhere, first timers, need to get their veins to show, i've done this a thousand times before, i check the needle, and slip it into my lifeless arm, i wait for the rush to come, that pin prick of life to course through me, this is my happy ending, well until tommorow, 10 seconds pass, nothing, 20... i look down at the fresh hole in my arm, it's hard to spot at first, scar's scracthed away from years of abuse, it's seeping a bit of blood.. why can't i feel anything.... I grab a strip of towel wrap it round my arm and pull it tight, the vein, almost destryoed, surfaces gently and weeps a single droplet of blood, i grab a 2nd needle and jab it into my arm... FUCK, WHY CAN'T I FEEL ANYTHING, shit, this is bad, bad drugs, no way, he's always been good to me, and it's christmas, it's not supposed to happen this way, i grab the last 2 needles desperate claw for a vein. My wrist starts throbbing, it's as good a place as any, i stab both of them into my wrist, i don't even care anymore if they hit a vein, these have to work...

i wait, theres nothing more to it now, i mean 4 needles in as many minutes, i should be on cloud fucking nine by now, suddenly my head goes light, and i feel warm and wet, theres a dull throbbibg in the my head, i must of hit it as i fell off the toilet, a bright light comes on, and i drift off to have my bit of life.



"Shit!", fucking junkies, i mean he can't of been there long, 5 - 6 minutes max, i'm staring at a soon to be body of a regular customer, his leather jacket around his slim frame, but his weight isn't my main concern, it's the worrying amount of blood seeping out of his wrist with 2 needles in it that are my main concern, i lean down and gingerly pull the first one out, i reach for the second and drag it clear, FUCK, theres blood everywhere, the needles now disgarded in the bath, i have to get him out of here, trust reliable junkies to go and OD and bleed out on my night off... There has to be a way out of this, i drag his body through my apartment, blood's going everywhere, i pick him up and throw him over my shoulders, i've had to lift heavier bags of shopping, i walk down the steps and out into the night, he starts to choke, i don't know if this is a good or bad thing, he's stopped moving on my shoulders, all i wanted for once was some peace and quiet, and i get stuck with this waster. I drop him into the back of my car. I don't know if he's breathing, you can never tell, and this pissing wind isn't helping, i close the door and go round, turn the engine on, it splutters to life and all i can think is "drive".

I watch from my parked car as the paramedics load his body into the ambulance, i'm not half a mile away from where i live, the black bag he's in is twice his size, his skeletal frame barely making a dent in it. They couldn't tell when exactly he died or where, just that it was somewhere between 3:30 - 4:30am on christmas morning, his name was Edward, and he was 23.
(My name was taken by me Is Sleeping With Your Sister/ Daughter/ Mother On, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 16:22, 4 replies)

wow
that hits the msg home dont it...which i hope is what you were trying to do there.
(fernbrittonsexcessskin will give a shit later, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 22:02, closed)

Cool story bro.

(Tyraen, Tue 23 Dec 2008, 0:05, closed)

Quietly Clicks...
...well done.
(EffinDoubt is breaking glass on, Tue 23 Dec 2008, 8:37, closed)

And once again...
...the 'I like this' button seems so hopelessly wrong.

True or not, that is beautifully written and very affecting.
(Angie the Redneck Wonder, Tue 23 Dec 2008, 8:40, closed)