This One Last Time

by DeejayMil

At seventeen years old, Spencer Reid was many things: high, broken, aimless, longing for another hit. "How would you start your story?" asked the faceless human next to him. "If you had to tell someone about your life." "Once upon a time," Spencer would have replied, if he'd been sober and still how he'd used to be, "there was a lonely boy in a lonely quarry." [Pt2 of Halcyon Mine]

10. Epistolary – 1998

Chapter Ten: Epistolary – 1998

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October 12th – I owe him. I owe him. I owe him.

October 13th – Two weeks yesterday at this apartment. I owe him. My belongings aren't unpacked yet. I'm not unselfish. I'm sober because the sheer effort of unpacking keeps me from relapsing. But I'll continue telling myself I'm doing it for Ethan. But I can tell; he's just waiting for me to fail.

October 14th – Sixteen days, thirteen hours, twenty-eight minutes. I can do this. Why?

October 15th – i dont know

October 16th

October 17th

October 18th – Mom called yesterday. She never calls. I miss her. I know she could tell. Perhaps she'll think I've gone mad. Perhaps I have. I broke the bottles.

October 19th – Mom.

October 20th

October 21st – Ethans tKen my keys. I leave today i sleep outside. Woth? Prob not. Fuck him. See how he likes SEEING ME.

October 22nd

October 23rd

October 24th

October 25th

October 26th

October 27th – Spent the week taking increasing amounts without leaving the apartment. Ethan seems tolerant until my cognitive functions are noticeably impaired. Tolerance levels increase the lower my external symptoms are. Negative affect = higher tolerance. Positive affect = aggression. Could repeat experiment with opioids.

October 28th – Happy birthday me. I dislike who I am. Someone saw something kinder in me once, not someone who tests the boundaries of their roommate's tolerance for drug addiction. Mom called me to tell me she's proud, but she cried as she said it. I'm no one of importance anymore. They'll see that one day.

October 29th – Maybe I have something to prove.

October 30th – There was a little girl at the bus-stop. She smiled at me. Decided not to get off at the eighth stop. Went straight past. She'll never know her impact.

October 31st – No little girl today. I went to the library and recited children's picture books to toddlers. Mundane. But I'm sober. Is it this easy?

November 1st – Ethan took me to a show. They asked for volunteers to come up and play in the interlude. He sung. He was drunk and fumbled the words and it was probably trite but it felt… Real? Thank you

November 2nd – Happy birthday, Aaron. 17. I hope you've forgotten me.

[remaining pages are blank]