One time when I did some x with a sweet hippie girl she introduced me to her friends. Two men, one more our age, one a bit older. Nice and decent, not like the neighbours. They had a drink while we were spacing. I noticed the man, his mind grabbed my attention. He was a bit different, highly intelligent. Like some walking google. He saw the state of me but treated me with respect. I left the bar with a stranger after going out with them. Completely drunk and faded. I stayed with this stranger for a few days.
Some time went by, then the intelligent one got into contact with me, asking me if I wanted to go out. We would meet at the bar. Where some user guys came to find me. I was waiting with them, while they were convincing me to come with them. We were just leaving when he arrived at the bar. He and the barman tried to convince me to stay, looking at who I was leaving with. But my anger was great and I left with them.
They took me to a trailer park, where they lived. It really looked like a cheap trash trailer park from the movies. One of them had guns in his house, on the wall. Great.. The other one didn’t, he had cats. Luckely not hanging on the wall. They were called Nakkie and Smoky. Poor pets. It was a mess there. In the few days after that I sniffed off the tip of my nose. Until I saw colours on the walls. Until there was nothing left. I remember the smell and the taste. At night I lied awake, in pain. My stomach was torn, cracked open and rotting inside. At least that’s what it felt like. The pain was excruciating. Coming over me in waves, over and over again. It was the longest night in my entire life. He dropped me off at my moms place after a few days of using. She saw me now. The walking dead. She put me in bed with a sleeping pill. I left as soon as possible.
After some time I met this man, who I was supposed to meet, instead of going to the trailer park. I was so restless that it was difficult for me to find my way. So he stood around the corner of his house waiting for me. He was wearing a black coat, really stylish. He was tall and standing straight. I felt that vibe of safety. Although every man was danger in my eyes.
We were hanging out, which to me was just talking, smoking and drinking, I used a bit more than him but it was okay. He didn’t judge me. I sat on the ground and eventually found my spot on the couch when I came over more often. We enjoyed talking. He liked to cook for me. I didn’t want to eat though. The drugs had gotten to me. My mind but body too. I was like a skinny little girl, no curves left. My back and shoulders pressed down under a heavy stone. I didn’t crave food, or sex or anything. Only drugs.
He listened to me though. He said I was always welcome except on wednesday evenings and sunday afternoon. I started to notice how he would do all things on certain times. Always. He was the opposite of me. Very structured. I liked the way he was different. We became closer as he slowly gained my trust. I felt safe enough with him to come back. He even introduced me to his group of friends later on. Two of them I already knew of course.
One day I used a lot, it was winter and snowing. I went to the one place that felt safe. I had found some x from someone close to me and stole it. Used it because I couldn’t wait and it was strong. I spaced hard so people gave me some weed to calm down a bit. It was at school, it was terrible. Went to school maybe a few hours a week. But was completely doped up or had a hang over. I used school more as a place to stay than actually learning something. Some class mates were brutal, saying: it’s your own problem if you can’t have kids in the future. I went on using anyway. Staying away from school as much as possible. Got bullied anyway.
I sat in the snow in his garden. Bought some vodka from my last money to keep warm, smoked a lot and spaced out. Waiting for him to come back from work and open the door.
At some point I ended up staying with him but I went away a lot, to go do my thing. Went to my user friends to score. He didn’t like that. But he worked and I started to learn when he would come home.
For some time we would have this fucked up cycle. I would be at his place when he was at work. Then left before he’d come back. I would go to my user friends, get entirely doped up and stay there in that hell hole where the neighbours lived too. I would try to feel that relieve in drugs but over time I needed much more to get that high that I craved. In that ghetto place I couldn’t go out at night so I used till the morning and then take the first train. Or take the last one.
At night I would stand at his door, completely out of it. Shaking. I had managed to go with the train and walk to his home. Don’t know how because I didn’t feel my legs anymore. My muscles were decaying from all the drugs and no food. Often I would have wounds in my mouth, from lack of vitamins. It’s what sailors used to get when staying on the sea too long. I don’t know how my legs could carry me in such a state. I lived in a haze. In my own bubble, isolated from the world. He would try to connect with me anyway.
He would let me in at night or in the morning. How often has he put me under the shower, made us breakfast and put me into bed. Then leave for work.
How often did I tell him that I would stop using. Promise him and then leave again when he went to work. Break the trust.
At some point he gave me a key so he wouldn’t have to come open the door. I would be so doped up that I couldn’t walk up the stairs anymore and would crawl up those fucking endless stairs, all to the bedroom in the attic. Two stairs. One day I was so drunk because I couldn’t score that I missed the last step and fell two stairs down. My combat boots made a black line on the wall. I didn’t feel anything, didn’t break anything. My body was pudding. So I fell and started laughing. The neighbours complained about the noise.
When I was on x my teeth would crush so loud, he called me a rabbit. I would be restless at times and go out of bed and stay down stairs. Waiting until I could leave to do it all over again.