A/N: Just a quick little one-shot. This is from the movie 'Twist', starring Nick Nolte. And yes, this is hard to follow. That's kind of the point. Lemme know what you think.
Can't think. Can't breathe. Can't get that fucking taste out of my throat. It's hard enough to get it out with the johns… But it's not the johns. It's not some nameless, faceless stranger. It's David's spew that's coating the insides of my mouth. It's my fuckin' brother. Jesus…
I need a hit. God, I just need a hit. Did David give me the money? Oh fuck, what's wrong with me? He's right… Damn him to hell, but he's right… I'm a whore. I'm just another junkie whore. God, please, I just need one fucking hit.
My fuckin' mind won't stop the flashbacks. Hittin' me like a ton of fuckin' bricks. BAM BAM BAM. One after another. David, my dad, David, my dad… It's happening all over again, and I can see it, I can fucking feel it, but I can't stop it. I couldn't ever stop it, I can't fucking stop it, why won't it fucking stop?
I don't do this… I don't do this, you do this…
Your own fault, you little fucking prick-tease. Why the hell you do this to me?
Like getting raped for a living…
Shut the fuck up! Quit your whinin' you little bitch! You want this! Tell me you want this!
Didn't know he was doin' that to you…
Please, dad, no… Stop! Please! Dad, it hurts, please!
"Stop! Just fuckin' stop!"
Is that me screaming? It's gotta be, look at that guy looking at me. What the fuck is his problem? Probably just another pervert wanting his dick sucked. Need the hit to get through the john, need to get through the john to get the money for the hit…
Need the hit, Christ, I need the fucking hit. How the fuck am I back to the loft already? How long has it been since I left Davey in that parking lot? Minutes? Hours? I can't go in, not like this… Fagin will fucking kill me, he sees me freaking out like this… Gotta calm down. Gotta relax. As it is, I can barely stand; one blow from Fagin, and I'll be out for the count. Which doesn't sound too bad. Can't sleep without nightmares; maybe being unconscious would give me a few hours peace.
I just need a few hours.
That's bullshit… I need a new fucking life. I need to erase my old life. But I can't. Can't erase it. Drugs barely even cut it anymore. Its' always there, waiting on the sidelines, ready to jump in and knock the wind outta me. Doesn't matter what I'm doing. Doesn't matter how fucked up I am anymore. It's all there… All there, just waiting… Just waiting for the perfect opportunity.
Stairs. Stairs to the loft. Stairs to the heroin. Stairs to sleep. Sleep.
Stairs to Oliver. The little shit who just doesn't fucking get it. I can't handle it right now. I can't have a relationship. I can't do it. I can't let him close. Can't let anybody close. What the fuck does he want anyways? I don't have anything left to fucking give, so what the fuck is he trying to get?
Why the fuck is he doing this? He said his foster families were decent to him. They left him alone. They ignored him. God, what I wouldn't have given to be ignored. I didn't have a choice in this. At least I have a choice out here. At least I'm gonna make money off being tied down and fucked up. Why is he doing it? Who the fuck would choose this life? What the fuck is wrong with him?
What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with me?