He'd saved me, from myself, and death. He wanted me to live, him and Bollo. But wasn't i a nuisance, a liability? Obviously not.
I heaved myself from the bed, feeling heavy and limp, and chucked on a ripped pair of black skinnies and an old 'Topshop' Hoodie that was now miles too big for me. My stomach felt full for the first time in months and it wasn't an unpleasant feeling, just, unwanted. I slipped on a pair of scuffed converse and plodded down the stairs over to the table where Naboo had left a respectable amount of money. He was a good friend to me, but he wasn't HIM. I tear trickled down my eye at the unspoken name and i snapped up the money in a wad and shoved it into a tight pocket along with a scratched blackberry.
As i stepped outside the air took my breath away and scratched down my throat where the water had scorched it dry. I hadn't been outside since it happened and the fresh air was overwhelming in contrast to the stale air of Nabootique. I knew where i was headed, somewhere that i thought i would never go again, somewhere unforgivable and selfish and...Illegal. But i knew it would help me forget, it was much better than having to face everyday alone and much, much better than another failed attempt in killing myself. I walked along to that all-too-familiar alley where the dealers hung out and put my hood up, not wishing to be recognised.
"All right son?" Said a husky voice, they even sounded like criminals. "What can i do for you?" He pressed. "Uh.." It had been along time since i'd bought drugs; i had no idea of cost anymore. "You got any Coke or heroin?" "Got both mate 'ow much d'ya want?" "Uh just make it up to €100?" "Yep alright 'ere y'are." He practically chucked the begs and syringes at me as i handed over the small wad of cash. I tucked the bundle under my Hoodie and walked away. I may not have bought drugs but i remembered enough to know that you don't thank or make conversation to a dealer, they don't give to shits anyway.
I got back into my room and stashed the substances under a compartment in my bed that hadn't been used since the 80's when i'd last done coke. No-one ever looked there and it was within perfect reach at night. I left one syringe out and a small pile of coke and ran downstairs to grab a straw. As i lined the coke i felt a pang of excitement and youth fill my body and i snorted the white powder into my nose feeling an instant rush. After i discarded all evidence of the coke, I straightened my arm and plunged the needle into it, again feeling and instant effect on my body. I threw the needle into a separate beg and hid it in the same place as the rest of my stash.
I felt the best i'd ever felt in months, like i could do anything. I opened up shop with a genuine smile played on my face. It seemed the sunshine kid had got his shine back-or at least until the drugs wore off. When Naboo got back he found me raiding the fridge-munchies were the downside to being high. I thought i'd be caught in an instant but poor unaware Naboo put my hunger down to the soup he'd force fed me and i didn't deny it. It was easier him thinking that, than knowing the truth.
Everyday i repeated the same routine, get up, take some drugs, have breakfast, open up shop, lunch, heroin, open shop again, snack, close shop, eat again. And no-one was suspicious of anything, they just thought i'd found a way to cope. They never saw me behind closed doors. When the drugs wore off i'd cry myself to sleep hunched in a tight ball begging Howard to save me from what i'd become. He never did. I missed him everyday, and because of the drugs i had to cover the black circles under my eyes with layer upon layer of makeup, making me feel disgusting, like i was erasing Howard bit by bit by becoming who i was again.