Category : Books-Non-Fiction
Sub Category : Biography
With my vision obscured by the sea of black tar that had flooded my brain when I had let her in that night, I neglected to see the dark shadow that followed behind. My eyelids were weighted down by tiny anchors attached to them. Everyone at my apartment was a blurry dream, as I attempted to converse with others, until I realized I didn't know any of them. However, I figured one of them would've said something about the anchors hanging from my eyes.
Nobody did though.
This was vital information to for me. It meant two things were certain: that it was all in my head, and I was really fucked up.
I woke up on my coffee and wine-stained couch that used to be a solid bright white when I had bought it at IKEA. The party was still going but wasn’t at full-swing like it had been before I blacked-out. The majority of the unknown people had left.
The only people remaining were my roommate, my neighbor, and her. She came around from the kitchen and had seen my head popped up in view above the back of the couch. She smiled at me. I noticed that dark cloud she had brought-in with her was no longer there. I smiled back, without worrying whether or not my teeth were showing—something I couldn’t do in front of anyone, except her. I never had braces as a kid, which allowed them tobe free. Free, but crooked. What really did a number on my teeth, and which also produced the growing fixation and fear of showing my teeth in public was the constant drug abuse. It was a combination of the smoking, the daily grinding, and the lack of care that had damaged my once beautiful, white teeth. As a result, I didn't let anyone see them. But there, with my best friend smiling at me, all of the insecurities that plagued me were then erased.
"Mmm, I feel so good…" she said.
In my head, I could only agree with her. I didn't have time to question what she could have taken, making her look as if she was on ecstasy. I had "rolled" with her before numerous times, but this wasn’t the same face. Her smiling face had a darker feel to it. But before I could ask about it, she had followed her comment with something I’d never forget...
"I love you, Joshy."
My heart melted. The emotional response produced by what she said must have intensified my high because all I could remember next, was blackness.
It's like having a dull blade shoved into my heart every time I think about it. I had no idea that those would be the last words she would say to me… before that next morning. The morning I found out what, or better, who that dark figure following her had been…
This is a true story.