Cocaine Hearts

Lost in the vast expanse of a desolate field, I found solace under the twinkling tapestry of stars that adorned the night sky. The dampness of the earth beneath me barely registered as my focus remained fixated on the celestial spectacle above. Countless stars illuminated the darkness, their brilliance captivating my imagination. I couldn't help but wonder if anyone had ever dared to embark on the monumental task of numbering these celestial gems. The stars seemed alive, engaged in a mesmerizing dance, spinning and intertwining as if choreographed by some unseen cosmic maestro. Their graceful movements painted a breathtaking tableau that filled my heart with awe. Despite the biting chill that accompanied the night breeze, I remained unperturbed. The alcohol coursing through my veins had dulled my senses long ago, rendering me impervious to the cold. Clad in nothing more than shorts and a tank top, I lay still, enveloped in a sense of tranquility that only the harmony of the universe could provide. It was in this state of numbness that I discovered a rare peace, both physically and mentally. I pondered the question that plagued my mind: why couldn't life always be as serene and enchanting as this moment beneath the stars? The weight of the world seemed to dissipate in the face of such ethereal beauty. The complexities and hardships of existence felt distant and inconsequential. The prospect of adulthood loomed on the horizon, a realm of uncertainties that I struggled to comprehend. In this state of blissful numbness, I found respite from the tumultuous journey of life, if only for a fleeting moment. I was definitely way to f*****g drunk for this. As the night sky twinkled above me, a soft voice called out my name, gradually growing louder. It took a few moments for me to discern that it was my best friend, Ashley, urgently trying to get my attention. Despite her persistent calls, I remained silent, completely entranced by the breathtaking beauty of the stars above. Deep down, I felt that if it was truly important, she would eventually locate me. However, my reverie was abruptly interrupted by the presence of a looming shadow. Long, dark tresses cascaded from its head, casting an eerie silhouette against the moonlit backdrop. "Ashhh...." I muttered, my voice laced with a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion. Feebly attempting to roll over, I inadvertently unleashed a torrent of vomit onto the soft grass beside me, eliciting a grimace of disgust. In that moment, my best friend's face materialized before me, her features a mix of concern and exasperation. "Miya, you're drunk," she stated matter-of-factly. "And because I love you and I'm your best friend, I'm determined to ensure that we make it back to my place before my mom wakes up and unleashes her fury upon us both." She says only half joking. Another groan escaped my lips, this one louder and more pitiful than the last, as I weakly reached out to grasp Ashley's icy hands. With her unwavering support, I managed to hoist myself upright, my unsteady legs threatening to buckle beneath me. The chill of the night air cut through my intoxicated haze, causing me to shiver involuntarily. This level of coldness was unexpected for the end of summer, further adding to the disorientation I felt. As the world around me began to spin, Ashley expertly maneuvered my arm around her shoulder, creating a makeshift support system. Together, we stumbled through the dense woods, our path illuminated only by the flickering moonlight. Each step felt treacherous, as if the ground beneath us shifted with every movement. Our destination was Ashley's boyfriend's truck, the beacon of hope that promised warmth and safety in the looming darkness. At least to my drunk ass. After a night that I could scarcely remember, I woke up in Ashley's room with a throbbing headache that felt as if my skull was being squeezed by a vice. My surroundings spun wildly, the world around me tilting and swaying like a ship in a storm. The nauseating sensation was too much to bear, and I sprung out of bed, my bare feet pounding against the carpeted floor as I dashed to the bathroom down the hall. Once inside, I fell to my knees beside the porcelain bowl, the coolness of the floor providing a small measure of comfort as I retched, my body violently purging the remnants of last night's excess. Over and over, the mantra echoed in my mind, "I'm never drinking again...I'm never drinking again." Yet, even as I repeated the lie, I knew I had made this promise before, only to break it at the next party, the next gathering of friends. School was definitely not a priority for me when I could have fun with my friends. What's so great about high school anyways? The snobby rich kids? The shitty food? Or maybe it's the douchebag teachers who barely know the work they are teaching. Whatever the issue was, I was just not happy there. Especially after breaking up with my boyfriend Dallas over the summer. I forced myself to stand up, splashing cold water on my face in a futile attempt to wash away the evidence of my wild night. I made my way back to Ashley's room and sat on the edge of her bed, cradling my aching head in my hands. Why the f**k does drinking have to hurt so much the next day? Lying on the bed, I closed my eyes tightly, attempting to shut out the relentless pounding in my head. The throbbing ache served as a constant reminder of the night's indulgence, but it was nothing compared to the pain of losing Dallas. It wasn't an easy decision to walk away from three years of shared memories, but deep down, I knew it was the right thing to do. The toxicity of our relationship had slowly escalated over time, starting with subtle emotional manipulation and gradually evolving into occasional instances of physical abuse. The love that once bound us together had become tainted with fear and anguish. Each day became a battle, a struggle to maintain my sanity amidst the chaos that Dallas brought into my life. But I had reached my breaking point. I could no longer endure the constant belittlement, the unpredictable outbursts, and the torment that came with loving someone who didn't know how to love me back. It was time to prioritize my own well-being, my own safety, even if it meant severing the ties that had once held us together. My thoughts finally cleared as I drifted into sleep. When I finally woke up later on, Ashley was already up with a cup of coffee and watching Secret Life Of An American Teenager in the bed. I felt so sick and the room was spinning like crazy and I groaned and held my head trying to stop the spinning. Feeling sick to my stomach, I longed for some relief. Sensing my distress, Ashley tossed an unopened water bottle my way, and I caught it swiftly. Without hesitation, I chugged the water down as if my life depended on it, hoping it would alleviate the queasiness that plagued me. Finishing the bottle, I looked up at her and mumbled a quick thank you, grateful for her presence in that moment. Realizing that I couldn't possibly go back to sleep in my current state, with my long blonde hair tangled and unkempt, and the stench of vomit clinging to me, I decided to take a shower. Mustering the energy to stand up, I stumbled towards Ashley's closet in search of something clean to wear. After rummaging through her clothes, I found a pair of black shorts and an AC/DC t-shirt, which I deemed acceptable for my impromptu borrowing. Turning to Ashley, I asked, "I'm going to borrow some clothes and take a shower, cool?" She simply nodded, sipping her coffee, understanding the urgency of my need for cleanliness and a fresh start. Grateful for her understanding, I made my way to the bathroom, hoping that the hot water would wash away not only the physical grime but also the emotional weight that had been weighing me down ever since I left Dallas behind. I tried my best to avoid the reflection staring back at me in the mirror, but curiosity got the better of me. My blonde locks were an absolute mess, tangled in giant knots atop my head, resembling a bird's nest rather than a hairstyle. Dark eyeliner and remnants of last night's makeup smeared across my face, giving me a disheveled appearance. Deep, dark bags nestled under my tired blue eyes, evidence of sleepless nights and restless days. It seemed like every day in my life as Miya Beckett was just another struggle. With a heavy sigh, I slowly undressed, my gaze shifting from the mirror to my body. I winced as I noticed multiple bruises scattered across my skin, their origins unknown, likely the result of a hard fall or two that I couldn't even remember. It was a stark reminder of the reckless path I had been treading, filled with blurry nights and hazy memories. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and stood before the mirror, determined to fix the disarray that adorned my head. Carefully, I began picking out sticks and leaves from my mangled hair, discarding them into the trash. With each flick of my brush, I untangled the knots, wincing occasionally as the bristles tugged at the snarls. It was a tedious process, but eventually, I managed to salvage some semblance of order. Finally feeling somewhat presentable, I stepped into the shower, the cascading hot water soothing my aching body. The steam enveloped me, causing memories from the night before to swirl in my mind like fragmented puzzle pieces. I closed my eyes, trying to recall the events leading up to my disheveled state. In my mind's eye, I could see myself sitting in the woods, a clearing illuminated by the dancing flames of a bonfire. Ashley and Zeke, her boyfriend, were there with me, passing around a bottle and sharing laughter. But beyond that point, the memories blurred, images flickering like a faulty film reel. I strained to remember what happened after that, my mind grasping at fleeting glimpses. The memory fog in my mind persisted, intensifying the throbbing pain in my head. Determined to find some relief, I hastily rinsed off the shampoo from my hair and lathered it with conditioner, hoping to soothe the tangled mess atop my head. With a quick rinse, I hurriedly stepped out of the shower, my body wrapped in a towel, and made my way back to Ashley's room. Sitting on the edge of her bed, I greeted her with a tired smile. "Hey," I muttered, my headache making my voice sound weak. "My head is killing me." Understanding my pain, Ashley leaned over and handed me two aspirins along with a fresh bottle of water. Grateful for her care, I thanked her quietly and downed the medicine. Her concerned gaze lingered on me, her own brown locks still a bit tangled but nowhere near the disaster that was my hair. She couldn't hide her worry any longer. "Are you okay?" Ashley finally asked, her eyes searching mine. I scoffed, trying to brush off her concern. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a rough night, you know." She continued to study me, her worry etched on her face. "It's just... you've been drinking a lot this summer." I let out a laugh, rolling my eyes at her comment. "Ash, we've been drinking since like eighth grade. It's nothing new." She sighed, her concern deepening. "I know, but it feels different this time. When I found you in that field last night, I was scared you might have alcohol poisoning or something." Shaking my head dismissively, I reassured her, "Don't be ridiculous. It's just our usual summer routine before going back to school. If Zeke hadn't been there, you would've been right there with me." She looked down, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know, but... you were really messed up last night. And you still haven't told me why you broke up with Dallas. You two were together for almost a year." Avoiding her gaze, I brushed off her question with a vague response. "It just wasn't working out, you know? We grew apart." Ashley sighed, her defeat palpable. "Okay, maybe I'm overthinking it." "You definitely are," I said, moving away from the bed and grabbing my clothes to get dressed. Modesty was never a strong suit of mine, so I didn't mind her seeing me naked. "I'm hungover as f**k and need a cigarette. Let's go for a walk?" Ashley nodded, joining me in getting dressed. "Let me quickly change and inform my mom that we'll be out for a while." I nodded back, waiting in the room as my mind wandered. As I gathered my backpack, I couldn't help but notice its contents – weed, cigarettes, and alcohol. Maybe I did have a problem, but I swiftly dismissed the thought. We were just young and wanted to have fun, even if it meant occasionally getting into trouble. Well, truth be told, I was usually the one getting us into trouble. Ashley, on the other hand, had a sweeter and more innocent side. She excelled in her academics, ran on the track team, and was already preparing for college, despite still being in the summer before our junior year. The thought of returning to school filled me with dread, particularly after last year's debacle. I had been suspended for two weeks for smoking weed in the school bathroom, an incident that had put me on the wrong side of the school principal. She had been keeping a close eye on me ever since, and I had no doubt she was itching for a reason to expel me. And, knowing myself, I would probably provide her with plenty of reasons in the coming year. I was snapped out of my musings by Ashley's voice at the doorway. "You ready?" she asked, startling me. "Jesus, Ash! Don't sneak up on me like that!" I chastised, my heart pounding in my chest. I quickly grabbed my backpack and followed her outside, ready to face the day and whatever it had in store for me.