Hello!
I know I still have stories going but I though I should post this one. I wrote it in writing class last week and thought I should post it.
Forewarning: This fic contains drugs, mental illness, and violence.
Disclaimer: I do not own HSM. :(

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It was a cold and cloudy day as I was walking along the tranquil beach near the hospital. I was the only one there on the long stretch of muck they call sand. I've never seen anyone other than the doctors and the nurses around the hospital. It would seem as I was the only one here in this god-forsaken place. I hear whispers; I'm not stupid. I know what they say about me. Though most of them aren't true; most of them.

I've heard from nurses that they thought that I killed a man. Others say that I committed suicide.

There is only one truth; neither of those are it.

There is only one doctor that knows my true story. He helped me when I hit rock bottom.

He never told any of the others, just said thay I was a friend and needed serious help.

That's when the rumors started.

Though some of the rumors that I've heard come dangerously close to the truth.

The truth you say? I am an addict. One of my rampages almost killed my best friend and myself with him.

Lets start at the beginning. It all started when I was 21; the year I first picked up my first joint.

Little did I know that it would send me spiraling to the bottom.

Like I said, I was 21, just turning the milestone a few months before. I was out with friends when we stopped outside a bar and went around to the back. There were a couple a guys there; one being a guy I knew. They offered us some joints and we accepted. The smoke was hot on my lips, but also soothing as it felt like all of my worries were washed away.

I never knew that one event could cause a chain reaction that would ruin myself and the ones that I care about.

Especially him. My best friend; Troy.

He is the one that I almost killed.

Lets go back to that night shall we? A night that I will never forget.

Troy was coming over to my house to play games, watch movies, and drink a few beers. Its just like when we were kids ( minus the drinking part).

Then after a while I went outside and pulled out a joint.

I was out there for a few minutes when Troy came out and saw me.

"You swore that you would stop!" he half-yelled, the anger and hurt evident on his face.

I brush past him and go inside.

" Don't you know that this thing could kill you!" he yells again.

I blow up. " Don't you think I know that? An addiction is very hard to overcome, Troy."

I saw him yelling but I wasn't paying attention.

I screamed in anger. I went over to the cabinet and pulled out a 9-mm that I had for protection.

I shot him. Once in the shoulder and once in the side. He fell to the ground.

I started to cry. "I tried Troy, I really tried."

I fell to the ground and started to cry again.

Troy ended up being okay. Day after day I still regret what happened that night.

I haven't seen him since then.

I was sent here not too long after it happened.

That was 5 years ago; though here it feels like a century.

The wind blows. I look around and see the image of Troy.

"I'm so sorry Troy." I whisper at his image.

From afar I see him smile a little bit and nod his head.

I know that he is not real. Though I can tell that I have been forgiven.

His figure walks away and disappears down the beach. Now he is just a figment of my imagination.

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