The Love We Neglect In Dark Times Read Count : 60

Category : Adult

Sub Category : Pulp Fiction



     Bzzzz. Bzzzz.    Bzzzz. Bzzzz. 

    It was these gentle sounds, matched with a fluttering sensation in Jackson's right leg that lifted his heavy eyelids up enough to notice a glowing green mist hovering beside him. Like a specter from the astral plane of our existence, it stood at eye-level as a cloud before forming into the familiar numbers of the clock-radio sitting on the bedside table. His eyes widened as his consciousness, still under the influence, played catch-up. It had shut down no more than a handful of hours after an utterly insane amount of uppers and downers slipped down inside him in the early hours of the previous night. Along with the many fiery shots exploding down his gullet, any other human body would've shut down completely. Jackson's tolerance wasn't anything close to another human body. Nevertheless, if his phone hadn't woken him up, his body may have remained an empty vessel. 

     Right as his vision was able to make out the green 6:03 amidst the surrounding blackness of his room, he started to ponder, Who in the hell would be calling him right now?

     The thought of it merely being a wrong number outweighed the thought of it being anyone he knew. Every relationship he'd had previously, before his drug addiction took full control, had been destroyed by it. Not even his family called anymore. The numerous calls from his worried mother that had long become a constant annoyance, were now greatly missed. 

     No one knows how much they're loved, until it's all taken away, he thought to himself. Jackson continually thought about his death and when it would hurry up and just happen. This daily desire for death came around almost as much as the vast phenomenal cravings. His eyes would see a little boy walking hand-in-hand with his father at the park, which would remind him of how he'd never experienced that, since his dad had left him and his mom before he could remember. This would leave Jackson feeling abandoned, not just from his father but from everyone—everyone who was lucky enough to have that experience. His facade of the tough, mysterious outcast would break, leaving him naked for all eyes to see who he really was… just a lonely child lost in a world of grownups. 

     Nothing took that shame away better than heroin, speed, crack, and alcohol. Even better when mixed. Also, the one thing he loved and cherished the most—his main drug of choice—Kristen. 

     According to Jackson, Kristen was the only person in the world that gave a shit about his existence. She'd been living with him long before drugs began ruining the picture. During all the regular thoughts of dying, it was always her that would bring him back to why he was here. 

     

     His phone in the front pocket of his jeans stopped buzzing. He was relieved to meet back up with the silence he longed for, but its pleasing vibrations still resided, bringing a stream of blood to the right area. His brain reached into its memory bank and pulled out the first thing it saw. It was of him and Kristen the night before, making out after taking the syringe out of her arm. It wasn't her first time meeting the white dragon, but the first time she truly experienced all that it really was by injecting it. 

     Jackson had felt guilty for giving in to her constant begging and yelling that he was a hypocrite for not letting her do what he did everyday. But once he saw she could handle it and fell into its dreamy state of bliss, he was as happy as the day they'd first kissed. He truly loved her. 

     After a minute of these thoughts, Jackson couldn't lay on his stomach any longer. He undid his pants then turned onto his back, in order to kick them off with his feet. Next to him, amongst the darkness he could make out the silhouette of what he secretly loved most about Kristen. He slowly reached out his hand and palmed a handful to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Kristen felt like a ripe peach that fit perfectly into his hand—as if her ass was made for his hand only. 

     This wasn't the first time Jackson had been awake in the middle of the night; when Kristen would awake to a late-nightcap. She'd never denied it either. With that, Jackson flipped over and on top of her, sliding her underwear to the side and himself up and down the warmth of her, before sneaking inside. The next minute was nothing short of pure, unadulterated bliss that ended too soon. 

     After releasing his many urges inside her, Jackson's body collapsed in relief on top of her. 

     Oomph, he heard from below, which he followed with, "Sorry, babe."

      She didn't respond. Jackson then quickly slid off to the side where his spot on the bed was still warm. Since Kristen sounded as if she'd already fallen back asleep, he laid on his stomach and did the same. 


     Bzzzz. Bzzzz.     Bzzzz. Bzzzz. 

     Jackson was awoken again to the annoying soundof his phone. This time he wanted to know who it was that kept interrupting his sleep. He reached his hand down and forgotten he'd taken his pants off just hours before. Finding them with his feet, he pulled them up as the phone quit buzzing. As he found the pocket in possession of the phone, there was another short buzz to reveal a message had been left. 

     With his phone in hand, he punched a button that lit up the screen briefly blinding him from seeing who it was that left a message. His eyes then focused and read something he hadn't seen in some time: 


     1 Voicemail

     2 Missed Calls from:

             Mom


     He hesitated whether or not he was awake or still asleep, dreaming of this event he'd secretly hoped would happen again. He shook his head then inhaled deeply before pushing the green button and put the phone up to his ear. 

     After the robotic female voice told him he had "One new voicemail," there was another voice, more human sounding, more worried. 

     "Jackson? This is Mom, please call me back. I…" 

    There was a brief pause. Jackson could feel how shaken up his mom was by the sound of her voice. 

    "I just had a dream last night… Kristen was in it."

    It felt as if everything in his body fell to the ground. With a puzzled look on his face, he turned towards Kristen. Her hair was a mess, but this wasn't anything shocking. It looked that way every morning. He then glanced at the clock that read five past eleven. This sent a chill down his body, since she was usually up and awake by now. Jackson would always get angry at the fact that her early work schedule had turned her into a morning person. 

     "She told me to call you, so I did. But you didn't answer and since… Well,… I didn't think you would answer."

     His eyes slammed shut, water built up behind them. The urge to tell her how he felt, how he missed her, grew incredibly strong. But it would be no match against Jackson's wall of pride. 

     "It was so real, Jacks… I'm sorry—"

     The phone fell out of his hand and onto the ground. He'd been waiting a long time for that call, but this wasn't how he'd pictured it. Every dream of the moment he had been happy and cried tears of love and joy. But that wasn't what he felt. It was more of an undeserved feeling. Like he wasn't worth it. 

     He knew what he needed for times like this: either a shot of dope, or… he looked over at Kristen, who hadn't moved an inch for hours now. 

     "Kris," he said. "Baby?"

     No sound. No movement. 


     Jackson jumped across the bed and shook her gently at first, then more violently as her body remained stiff, and lifeless. Holding her body, he exhaled blue flames of rage and guilt. 

     

     There was a loud bang that brought Jacks back to the nightmare that was reality. It was followed by a shouting of familiar words that his mind couldn't, would not, figure out. Several men in uniform rushed in while he laid there in a daze. He recognized the second batch of men in another type of uniform. They were the ones who placed him in handcuffs and asked question after question without any response from Jackson. His body was alive and working, but his soul had shut down, again. 


     A deep, firm voice was speaking when he came back to, which was followed by cries from his mom. Two police officers stood at the door behind the doctor beside him, asking, "When did you have sexual intercourse with her? At what time?"

     Jackson felt more doped up than he had ever been. He'd never seen a hospital like this, with his arms shackled to the bed, along with his ankles. He tried to tell them that she was awake. That it was after his mom had called. But it felt as if they'd tied his tongue in a knot after numbing it. He closed his eyes to show he'd given up. But the doctor was adamant for an answer. 

     Jackson then heard his mother's voice: "Why does that matter, Doctor?"

     "Because she had died of an overdose at approximately three in the morning…"

Comments

  • found it

    May 17, 2019

  • Jun 17, 2019

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