The greyness was overwhelming. I was truly in the heart of the concrete jungle, Port Angeles was a hole. It never stops raining, the paths were always damp and the overflows always full of murky, polluted water. This wasn't good for me, it meant no privacy – I would do what I needed on the streets behind the dirty restaurants, the alleys deserted except for the occasional tramp or drunken teenager seeking refuge.
But I, Jasper Whitlock, I wasn't a teenage drunkard. No, I am a far more despicable type of person. This hole was my home. I didn't sleep here, I do have a real house, but it's far from a home.
The rain had ceased for a mere minute, so I set my frayed jumper on the floor so that my jeans wouldn't soak through when I sat down – not that it would matter, I just didn't really enjoy getting a beating for ruining them. I shook my head so that the unruly dirty blonde locks hung over my almost caramel eyes; I looked like my mother, so everyone says. I'm Jasper Whitlock, and I am the spitting image of my alcoholic mother, doesn't it just make your heart swell. I moved the locks slowly from my vision, pushing my hand deftly through my hair.
"Fuckin' weather" I drawled to myself.
The clouds had decided to open again, the droplets settling in my hair and on my clothes. Oh well, it's not as if I haven't sat in the rain before… I'll do this anyway. I'll do it my way, let's just get it over with.
I rolled my terry-cloth sleeve up to expose the sweet spot on my left arm. The hem easily creating the pressure in my veins that I needed to stick the needle in. Thin blue veins bulging visibly under my papery skin. The needle was clean; I'm not an idiot, well not a complete idiot. I looked away as it tore my skin and I began to force it to spread into my system.
The dirt spread up my arm, a cold and tingly feeling spreading through me. This was going to be good, I could tell it was going to be a spine-crushing hit.
"Oh baby…" I murmured as my head smacked back against the alley wall. My jaw falling open instead of usually clamping shut. There'd be no chance of dribbling, my mouth was as dry as… as… well anything that wasn't here… under these stupid miserable clouds.
This was better than sex. This was heroin.
--
Oh no… Oh please lord no…
My stomach lurched as the car pulled onto the interstate. This was the worst thing about my love and I. The uncontrollable puking that took over my body after about 25% of my hits.
"Carlisle…" I groaned, pulling myself up from slouching in his passenger seat.
"Yes Jasper?" He asked politely, unsure whether the sudden conversation was a good or bad sign. Generally I didn't speak to him on these little trips, except to say yes my mum is okay or I don't know, I left her passed out. I caught him glance in out the corner of his eye at my sorry ass state.
"Can you… erm… pull over?" I fought back a gag.
"I can't, mate." He said hurriedly. "But there's a bucket in the back-seat, grab that."
Please… please make it, Jasper. Don't be sick in his car.
I grabbed blindly in the back, my hands finding something solid and rather bucket-like and I pulled it into my lap. Just in time. I emptied my stomach in one huge motion before exploding into a bout of dry heaves. Good job I hadn't eaten too much before I took myself into town.
"I'm sorry Carlisle." I muttered, wiping my mouth with the sleeves of my shirt.
"It's okay, mate." He said, handing me a pack of gum from his pocket. "Here, take one of these, they'll get rid of the taste…"
"Cheers." I said, pretending to pop it in my mouth, before slipping it into my jeans pocket. I just knew I'd need it after getting out the car, my stomach wasn't settled yet, and with that, it spasmed again.
--
"Hey, Jasper…" Carlisle said slowly as we stopped at the top of my long, winding driveway.
"Yeah?" I said impatiently, wanting to jump out and get into the house as soon as humanly possible, anything to escape the suspense before the punishment I was bound to get when I got behind the closed door.
"You'd tell me if anything was wrong, right?" Carlisle asked with hopeful eyes.
"Hmm." I nodded quickly, swinging my legs out the now open door, oh dear my legs were tired. Well, 'tired' as in drug-fucked. "Sorry for the sick, eh…"
"It's okay, mate. At least you warned me this time." Carlisle chuckled, his hazel nut eyes crinkling at the edges with slight amusement. "You should really let me you check you over, you know. You seem a bit ill."
"I'm fine, I promise." I lied.
"Keep outta trouble, you're a good lad." He said, he always said that, every single time he dropped me at the house. This was generally 2 or 3 times a week, whenever he finds me out of it at the side of the alley behind his clinic.
"Me? Trouble?" I grinned, closing the car door and starting the unsteady walk towards the front door. When I heard his engine get further away, I turned to watch the Mercedes cruise slowly out of the gates at the bottom of the drive. I wished I could stay out of trouble, I really really do.
A/N – Trying something a little bit new. I know that there's a similar story out here on – but bear with me, it will not be similar after this chapter. Leave me lovely reviews and comments, please? I'll try to update this as well as finish my other story off.
