Huh. A story about drugs, obviously. What fun. Yaaaay. Anyways, if you don't know who these people are, don't even bother reading. Unless you feel like it, of course. Anyways... On with the story.
His hands were shaking as he prepared the needle, the chills already radiating through him from his spine. Forget... I just want to forget it all... He bit his lip as he injected the drug into the veins in the crook of his elbow, the feeling rushing into him. With a small shudder as the effects began to kick in, he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.
A cheap plastic serving tray rested on the tiled floor beside him, thin lines of white powder lining it. Cocaine, for the low that always followed the heroin. This is what his life had become since he left the institution. No doubt Near was keeping tabs on him, making sure he didn't OD on anything.
Matt let out a soft sigh as he felt his muscles relax, the heroin racing throughout his body. The chills faded and as a result, his furious shivering began to stop.
"Mello, do you remember your parents?" asked the small, goggled boy with flaming red hair. The blonde sitting next to him rose a fine eyebrow and took a bite out of the chocolate bar before answering.
"My mom was a whore and my step-father was cruel. My real father died of a heart attack." he shrugged, barely noticing the redhead's eyes widening. "She used to jack up on heroin and chase back the low with cocaine. When my step-father came home, he'd beat her. Once she was bruised and bleeding, he'd turn his attention to me."
The redhead gaped at him and put aside his game, an old Nintendo console. "Your life was that hard? What did that man do to you?"
The blonde boy shrugged again and looked away, avoiding meeting the gaze of the other boy. "He beat me as bad as he beat her, but he wouldn't stop there. Sometimes..." he trailed off, the memories of the drunken man's hands moving down his small body.
He shuddered and took another bite of the chocolate, trying to force back the feeling of that man slamming into him. "I still have the scars from what he did. One day, he beat my mother so bad she fell into a coma."
"She didn't wake up in the end, did she?" the redhead murmured. "You were left alone with that brute."
The blonde shook his head slowly. "My step-father refused to take her to the hospital. She died alone in her bedroom." his voice turned cold, a tone that the redhead rarely heard. "The night she died, he treated me like a dog."
His eyes widening again, the redhead wrapped his arms around the older boy. "But what happened to him? You didn't just run away, did you? You got revenge on him?"
"He left me bleeding on the floor, hurting in places that shouldn't hurt. He went to bed drunk and I took a knife from the kitchen. I slit his throat before he had a chance to scream." he said softly.
Matt shook his head and brushed his greasy hair off his face. His face had become gaunt and sickly from the drugs, and it was getting worse the more he used. "No... more..." he mumbled, feeling the high begin to recede.
He shook his head again and leaned down to the tray to snort a line of cocaine. The redhead leaned back against the bathroom wall and rubbed his nose on the back of his arm, sniffing a bit to clear his nose.
A small boy was carried out of a black, nondescript car in the arms of a woman who could only be his mother. She set him down gently on the steps of an institution and slipped a pair of goggles around his eyes. "You show others how you feel when they look into your eyes, Mail. These will keep you safe and hidden."
The child shook his head and wrapped his arms around the woman's shoulders, pulling her close. "Mammy..." he whimpered. "Mammy..."
His mother smiled softly, trying to hold back her tears. "Be brave, Mail Jeevas. Never forget who you are."
With those softly spoken words, she forced herself to stand and walk back to the car, refusing to look back at the little redheaded boy who began crying.
Boom. Like that, the cocaine shoved back the low that had begun to consume him, driving away the feeling of isolation that had surrounded him ever since his mother had left him at the orphanage. No, no. He wouldn't think of that place, it held too many painful memories; a young blonde boy beating up three older boys who had started to tease the redhead, a short white haired boy who rarely spoke, unless it was to the redhead.
Another line.
"Mister Wammy, you keep calling this place an orphanage, but don't children in orphanages get adopted? This place sounds more like an institution." the redhead remarked from the back seat of the glossy black limousine.
The old man behind the wheel chuckled, his plain black suit flawless. "True, in the general way of things. Think of it as you will, Matt, but this place is home to many other children. I'm sure you'll find your place and come to think of Wammy's House as your home too."
The redhead nodded and turned his attention back to the old Nintendo console held in his hands. "And you said I can have whatever I want there?"
"Of course, the only thing you have to do is remember to use your alias. Mail Jeevas is gone, and Matt stands in his shoes to protect him." replied the old man.
"Then... Can I get a couple of striped shirts, a few pairs of jeans and... Some sort of vest. Something that will keep me warm, but doesn't cover my arms." he nodded slightly.
"Of course you can, Matt. Like I said, you can have whatever you want here."
The boy looked up again from his video game, pausing it. "Anything I want, then... Can I get a few packs of cigarettes? Not clove or menthol, they taste and smell horrid."
With a nod, the old man smiled slightly. It was strange to think that this boy was just seven years old and already this intelligent.
Another line was removed from the tray, the redhead swooning in the arms of the drug. The memories of his life were coming to the surface of his mind, hovering before his eyes. He waved a hand in the air as if to brush them away and wiped his eyes with stained fingers.
"Who are you?" asked the boy, crouching down in front of the redhead. "And what did you do to make them tease you?"
The goggled boy tilted his head, looking the blonde over. His hair hanging down in a bob around his face, icy blue eyes that seemed to hold him in place, pale skin covering feminine features.
"My name is... Matt."
The blonde held out his hand to the boy and pulled a bar of chocolate out of his pocket, taking a bite of the corner.
"The name's Mello. Don't touch my chocolate, and don't get a higher ranking than me, and we'll be best friends."
His words seemed harsh, but the redhead recognized a similar soul, one that had seen many hardships. He gave him a smile and took his hand, getting to his feet.
"And if I do eat your chocolate, you'll beat me up and sulk in your room?" he teased, brushing his hair off his face.
The blonde narrowed his eyes, the blue masked by the orange of the redhead's goggles. "Damn straight." the two boys grinned and headed off to the dining hall for dinner.
That was super depressing. Anyways, if you don't know what's going on, Mello left Matt at Wammy's, and Matt left the night he found out. Then he goes off and gets into hardcore drugs. Heroin, and then cocaine to chase off the low left behind from the heroin. And it's hard to describe the sensation of drugs, but I think I do well enough. Review, please! -InsatiableFaggot