The Recovered

The Before

I sat on a stained and torn couch, in the middle of a sparsely furnished basement. I had been here many times before, this place is some sort of sick sanctuary. It’s where I enter the vast state of numbness that I have begun to crave, where I feed my demon. That’s truly the only way to describe it, my demon of addiction.

I sit rather impatiently, waiting for Derek to finish weighing and packaging the goods. That sweet burning feeling has started in my nose at the mere thought of it hitting my nasal passage, I’m almost giddy with anticipation. I sit waiting with my eyes trained on his bedroom door, my focus unwavering.

Derek has been my dealer for the last five years, in that time we have come to respect each other, and each other’s personalities. He knows that my happiness depends on him, that I need him in order to feel satisfied. He has never abused that power, nor has he held my addiction against me. We have built a bond, a sort of friendship that is dependent on me getting what I need.

There have been times where I haven’t been able to pay, where I needed to provide him with another form of payment. That payment being s****l in nature. I never enjoyed it, it was a means to an end. That end being the gram of blow that he’d give me afterwards.

I sat watching that door intently until it finally opened and Derek appeared. I could tell that something was not right by the look on his face, it was a look of disappointment, almost sadness. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but I’m fresh out of the good good” he says, “don’t worry, I’ve got you covered though” he chuckles as he places a little foil wrapped package on the scratched and water marked coffee table. I had been around this place long enough to know exactly what was sitting in front of me.

Derek started fiddling with an empty pop can, putting a dent in each side then burning a sewing needle and poking holes in one side. He then lit a cigarette and placed the ash over the holes that he just poked. The time had finally come for him to open the little foil wrapped package, sitting there in the middle of the foil was a stone like white crystal. I finally understood why they call it rock, I was slowly getting anxious. He broke off a little piece of the crystal and placed it in the nest of cigarette ash, then began melting it with a lighter. “Put your mouth over the pop top and suck” he says. I do as I’m told and the result is a sweet tasting smoke that I hold in my lungs for as long as I can. I slowly exhale and I can feel the numbness almost instantly.

The effects of it were hitting me hard. My heart started pounding faster, pumping adrenaline through my veins. It was the best high I have ever experienced. I sat with my head leaned back against the back of the couch and my eyes closed, basking in the adrenaline rush and numbness I felt.