KILLER ADDICTION: When Murder Becomes A Habit

Chapter 32

Chapter 32

IT WAS STILL EARLY days, but it was going okay with my family, all things considered. Mom had brokered a ceasefire between me and Dad, who was still burning over what I had done to them both and wasn’t as forgiving as Mom. I had stolen a lot from them in the months I was using drugs when we were still seeing each other, until my father had finally put his foot down and cut off all contact, refusing to let me in the house, knowing that I would just lie and cheat and steal, no matter what I said. ‘Once a junkie, always a junkie,’ were his last painful words to me.

But we had met up a few times now; I had explained the whole thing, including Sally’s death and the impact it had on me, and my efforts at recovery. Dad could see I wasn’t using now and was trying to clean myself up. My sister, three years younger than me, was away at college and we had spoken on the phone a few times after Mom had filled her in on what was happening.

With amends being made with my family, I decided to take the next step and reach out to Sally’s family. I knew this would be tough, but I had to at least try. It was a major step on my path to recovery, and I wanted to connect with them, to see if there was anything I could do. Sally came from a God-fearing middle America family, with very traditional values on religion, morality, race, and s****l orientation. One reason Sally and I had hit it off so well was her desire to rebel and be her own person, free of the judgement of her parents.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the front door of the home of Sally’s parents. An American flag standing proudly in the front yard fluttered in the breeze, and a menacing crucifix mounted over the front door dominated the front of the house. I gulped as I waited for a response, almost hoping that nobody would answer.

The door creaked open, and a look of pure hatred unlike anything I had ever seen in my life hit me right between the eyes.

‘BASTARD!’ came the shout, from the face of Sally’s father, immediately purple with rage. ‘Murderer! How dare you show your face here, you pig! You killed our only daughter and then you turn up on our doorstep all sad-eyed like you want forgiveness? You’ll never get that from this house! I’ll burn in hell before I forgive you for what you did to our sweet Sally!’

He spat the venomous words at me with accompanying drops of spittle as he stared deep into my eyes with lips curled in a twisted sneer of hate.

‘I’m sorry, Sir, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for Sally to get hurt, I’m sorry!’ I cried out.

He pulled a small crucifix from his pocket, held it out as if performing an exorcism and fixed his fiery gaze on me. In a voice as hard as flint he snarled, ‘You listen to me, you worthless piece of s**t. I curse the parents who spawned you. I curse the day my darling Sally first cared for you in that hospital, and I curse the drugs you hooked her on. I curse the path you dragged her down and I curse the life you created for her. But most of all... I curse YOU!’

He fiercely thrust the crucifix at my face with every curse, culminating with the final hex as he shoved the cross an inch from my eyes and held it there quivering, like it had taken on a life of its own.

Shocked at the vitriol of his attack, I backed away and said, ‘I’m sorry, all I wanted to do was apologise for what I did to Sally, to make amends. I swear I’ll find her killer.’

‘Find her killer?’ he said, in a voice of derision and disdain. ‘There’s no need for that, Boy. He’s standing right in front of me. He’ll be looking back at you from the mirror every day for the rest of your life. God is the ultimate judge and his fury is unmatched by mere man! You will burn in hell for all eternity for what you have done.’

My stomach dropped, and my blood went ice-cold at this judgement as I looked at Sally’s father, a broken man. On the surface I knew this wasn’t all my fault, and his response wasn’t exactly rational, but the visceral nature of his attack cut me to the core.

‘Martha!’ he shouted back into the house. ‘Get my rifle and bring it here. Now!’

Then he looked back at me and said, ‘Boy, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the hell out of here before Martha arrives with my g*n, because I guarantee I will shoot you if you are still standing on my porch. Get your a*s out of here and don’t come back!’

I turned tail and jumped off the porch steps, ran down the path and out onto the footpath. With pounding head and burning gut, a horribly familiar need came flooding over me. Filled with remorse and self-loathing, I saw the truth in what Sally’s father had said.

In a moment of despair, I gave into my urge to chase the dragon and headed straight to my old dealer. I bought a hit of junk and bummed some gear from him. Unlike my recovery time so far, I didn’t have the strength to resist my ever-present urge this time.

I went back to the place in the park where I had seen Sally for the last time. I sat down, hid under my jacket, pulled out the spoon, water, lighter, rubber band, and syringe. I applied the tourniquet around my arm and started heating the solution. With a look of fascination and anticipation I saw the white smoke drift up towards me, placed the needle into the solution and drew back the plunger. I tapped a prominent vein in my arm to plump it up and punctured the skin with the razor-sharp needle point. I grasped the body of the syringe between my fingers and positioned my thumb on the plunger. My heart was racing, preparing my body for the imminent rush.

Suddenly, the simple sound of a child’s laughter broke through my d**g fever. I peered out from under my jacket and saw a woman walking along the river with a young boy and a dog. I thought of my mom and dad and everything I had put them through, and what it would do to them if I sank back down into this cesspit again. I thought of Melissa and everything she had been through with her son. And I thought of Sally and my pledge to her to stay clean and find her killer. The photo I had taken of myself n***d in front of the mirror came back to me in a flash, image vivid in my mind.

I looked down with fresh eyes at what I was about to do, seeing the syringe hanging out of my arm with its full dose of poison about to enter my bloodstream, and jolted out of my d**g-state. Repulsed, I pulled the syringe out of my arm and jammed it down into the dirt, then drove the plunger home, injecting the h****n into Mother Earth. I then whipped my jacket around to clear the air while filling my lungs with deep gulps of fresh oxygen.

The enormity of what I had almost done hit me in the chest like a battering ram, and suddenly my heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was jumping out of my chest. I must be strong! I know I can’t just give in like that whenever I hit a setback—I’ll face challenges with my past and my addiction throughout my whole life, and I need to have coping mechanisms in place to deal with that.

This is the price I must pay for what I did to Sally. It will be a burden I carry for the rest of my days.