What if Roger took that smack?
Rodger watched as Mimi danced towards him watching her body weave back and
forth to the music. She reached down to her pocket, shoved a baggy full of powder
towards him, and smiled. Roger picked up the baggy, it was the first time he had scene
smack in a while, he took a deep breath. As he weighed the worth of his coherency Mimi
looked happy that she had found his weakness.
"No, No I can't Mark would kill me." Mimi looked down at him with a
disappointed look in her eyes, she had poured her heart out to him so it wasn't hard for
her to make him feel guilty. He looked up at her eyes, into those dark brown orbs, how
could he say no?
"No, I've worked to hard for this." Roger was telling himself this more then
Mimi, as his heart started to weaken. He knew he wasn't going to be able to resist for
much longer. Part of his technique to staying away from the stuff in the first place was out
of sight, out of mind, yet there it was dangling in front of him.
Roger made a grab for the smack, and Mimi let him have it. As he picked at the
bag with his fingers guilt began to creep up on him. How could he do this to Mark and
everyone after they had worked so hard in the first place to get him off. He pocketed the
smack so he wouldn't have to think about it, out of sight out of mind. Mimi looked
disappointed but satisfied that he had at least taken the stuff. Roger looked closer at Mimi
as she smiled at him. It was strange she hadn't said a word the whole time she was hear,
but she didn't have to, the smack talked for its self.
Mimi made her way for the door and blew him a kiss, she was stoned really
stoned, Roger pitied her. He though back to his first high, the feeling of fulfilment began to spread through his veins, maybe it will be worth it. Mimi got up and headed to the door
leaving Rodger alone with the smack. It had been a full year since Roger had been alone
with the drugs, he couldn't help but feel free, free of judgement, free of guilt and not to
mention free of his grief. "Wow and I haven't even shot up yet" he thought as all these
feelings shot out of him as a mixture of relief and confusion. Roger got up of the table
and headed to his bedroom, eager to hide his smack in his old place. He knew if he was
going to use the stuff he would have to snort, seeing as he had no needles and no money.
He hated doing it that way but it had been so long since he had a fix. Just as he returned
to the table from his bedroom Mark walked in to the apartment looking chilled from the
winter air.
"Hey" Mark said as Roger looked up guiltily from his guitar he had just picked
up.
"Hey" Roger replied as he tried to keep up his depressed persona although he was
feeling better then usual. Seeing that Rogers mood hadn't changed Mark made his way to
his room planning to cut the new footage he gathered at the park.
As Mark closed the door behind himself Roger knew this was his chance. Mark
would be busy in there editing for hours. He ran to his room, opened the drawer and took
out his precious bag of smack. He knocked every thing of his night stand and began to
pore the powder out onto it. He could smell it as it came out of them bag, he found it
slightly intoxicating as all the good memories with April filled his mind. He leaned his
head down for the first snort ready to feel the relief from all that had been placed on his
shoulders over the last year.
Just then Roger heard his door open as someone shouted "Roger? WHAT THE FUCK!"
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Who do you think should walk in on Roger?
Aranka.