Coming off of heroin was a major bitch. Besides sweating profusely as if he was in the middle of the Sahara desert, he felt like he was having the worst flu of his entire short life. To make matters worse, his muscles also felt sore.
Normally, he would be in bed and calling up his usual dealers to make a delivery. However, his usual heroin suppliers was either busted or out of heroin at the moment. He needed his fix and fast and his options were limited.
His last resort was an acquaintance that he met at a party a few times named Jeffery that claimed to have numerous drug connections. His gut feeling was telling him not to trust the dude or his supplier. Normally, in these sort of situations, he would have Matthew and Lucas go with him as back up, but Lucas had gone on vacation with his father and Matthew was currently in the psych ward. And, of course, the fifteen year old certainly couldn't ask his girlfriend to come with him.
Seth's only protection was the loaded pistol in his pants that had once belonged to his uncle — the same gun said uncle had used to commit suicide. Though it was usually dangerous to be packing heat while seeing a strange drug dealer, he was not taking any chances. Surely, he reasoned, it'd be way more dangerous to go completely unarmed.
He waited for Jeffery near an abandoned factory for what seemed like an hour before the dude showed up wearing clothes that Lucas' would dismiss as 'pauper showboating'. Name brand shit, but nothing that an actual affluent brat would be caught dead in. It was the kind of clothes that rappers donned on MTV, but Jeffery was lily-white with dreadlocks.
"It's about time," Seth hissed, a bit irritable from withdrawals. God, he sounded like Lucas when he didn't have his drugs, "This fuckin' heat is unbearable and I'm jonesin' like a motherfucker."
"Goddamn, when was the last time you had your fix?" Jeffery joked, "You look like death."
"I'm fine, or at least I will be when I get my damn fix," Seth tried not to get short with the dude, "You got a sample I can shoot up till we see your dealer? I mean, how do I know the shit he's selling is even good and not that black-tar shit or that shit that's cut with starch?"
"Relax, I would never do you or any potential customer wrong. My boy sells the pure shit," Jeffery tried to coax Seth to relax, "But no; I don't carry around free samples. I don't want the cops on my ass. You want a free sample, you gotta come to my boy's crib."
Seth's lips pressed together and he picked at his skin as irritability set in further. He tried so hard not to be a dick, but Jeffery just had to go and make this more frustrating and harder to trust the guy. Granted, even with dealers he did trust, they'd normally have him sample the shit at their house. However, there was something about the whole situation that didn't feel right and he could only think of a handful of times in his life where he got a nagging feeling like that.
Paranoia struck as he looked around for any sign of police officers. If he got busted, he would be sent to juvie for drug paraphernalia over what he carried in his patch-covered satchel; rubber tubing, a burnt spoon, and needles he got from Lucas. Not to mention, he was also making a drug deal out on the bad side of town.
"Fine, I guess," Seth shrugged wearily. Sweat clung to his faded concert tee the longer he stood out in the heat, "Lead the way."
Jeffrey gestured for Seth to follow and they walked alongside the dilapidated building. Past a hippie store that usually smelled like incense. Seth had been there a few times. Besides the usual incense and tie-dye clothing, they sold pro-marjuana products, marijuana pipes, homemade granola bars, homemade hygienic products, and Wicca-related stuff. He could've swore that the interracial couple that owns it also lives in Matthew's cul-de-sac.
They turned a corner and passed by a few more buildings until they reached the nearby residential area. After passing many houses, they finally reached a place that looked rundown, with landscaping that didn't look well-maintained by any stretch. This was definitely a dope house by the looks of it.
The interior wasn't in any better condition. The furniture was dusty and barren without any personal touches to give the room any charm. That is unless he counted the used needles that were thrown about. The couches looked like they were nicked from the dumpster. Yep, definitely a dope house.
"Seth, meet my boy, Big Shark," Jeffrey introduced the owner of the house, drawing Seth's attention back to him, "Big Shark meet Seth. He's here to buy a 40 of smack."
Seth nearly recoiled as he turned to look at this 'Big Shark'. The guy didn't even look human to him. To say the man was fat was putting it lightly. Most fat people at least looked human, but the man on the couch looked like some monstrosity like Jabba the Hut. He had to be at least ten pounds from being bed-bound. Beady black eyes sized him up like a meal. A huge lipoma on the center of the man's forehead only added to his unsettling appearance.
Maybe he really was a dick deep down for judging the man by his appearance.
Seth pulled out two fresh twenty dollar bills and handed them to the man; "Nice to meet you…err…'Big Shark'."
Without hesitation, Big Shark took the money from him; "Where does a kid like you make this kind of money for smack? Mommy and Daddy? How old are you anyway?"
"Fifteen," Seth answered, awkwardly, "I work odd jobs to support my habit, sir."
"Habit? At fifteen?" The man's eyebrows raised, squishing under the man's huge lipoma, "How long you been chasing the purple dragon?"
"A couple years," Seth answered truthfully.
"Tragic," the man remarked without an ounce of sympathy, "Come 'ere. I want to look inside your mouth." Upon noting the wary look on Seth's face, he elaborated. "I gotta confirm that you're not a decoy for some pig department." He briefly nodded to the boy's arms. "Those scabs all over your arms are pretty convincing, and that shit is hard to fake, but I still gotta confirm. Teeth never lie."
Not allowing himself to be intimidated, Seth walked up to the man, pushing the coffee table out of his way. Once he was in front of him, he opened his mouth and leaned forward. Anything for a fix…
Big Shark took out a small flashlight from the end table and shined it into Seth's mouth. He then took one of his sausage fingers and shoved it inside, pressing Seth's tongue down. Big Shark's fingers were disgusting and Seth resisted the urge to gag. Anything for a fix…
"Looks like you have some damage on two of your back teeth," Big Shark tsked, removing his finger. Seth immediately closed his mouth, the awful, salty aftertaste of Big Shark's fingers lingering on his tongue as the man continued, "You really are a junkie. Well, I'll have Jeffery get you your smack."
Jeffery took that as his cue to disappear to another part of the house. While they waited, Seth spotted a few roaches climbing out from a dust-covered picture frame and shuddered. He made a mental note to check his smack for any bugs before he even did a taste-test. He imagined that Lucas would've broken out in hives over the state of the house while Matthew would've cracked jokes about Big Shark not being able to find his own dick.
After what felt like forever, Jeffrey returned with a baggie of white powder. Finally, Seth thought. Jeffrey handed it to him and then backed away. Seth opened the baggie and dipped his finger in to check for any unwanted bugs. When he didn't find any, he coated his finger and tasted it. Sweet, bitter ambrosia! He couldn't wait to inject it into his veins. That is some good shit.
"Thanks again, Big Shark," Seth thanked the man as he put the smack into his satchel, "I gotta get home and shoot up, man. If my usual guys don't come through again, I'll hit you up."
"Leaving so soon? Why don't you stay and shoot up here?" Big Shark asked darkly.
That question really struck Seth as odd. In his experience, drug dealers usually wanted customers in and out of their homes nice and quick.
"I'd rather shoot up in my own home, Big Shark," Seth stated assertively. He turned to leave when Jeffrey blocked his way, "Out of my way, dude."
"I'm afraid I can't let you leave, Seth," Big Shark stood up slowly from the couch, "You see, I have some clients upstate looking for young, jailbait tail to pimp out to clients and there's more than a few clients who fancy teen boy ass. What better way than to give 'em the teen junkies that come crawling to me like you?"
Seth gritted his teeth, fucking asshole! He'd have to use his uncle's gun to get out of this situation. There was no way in hell he'd let these motherfuckers pimp him out to pedophiles. Matthew wasn't there to save his skin and neither was Lucas. With a grimace, he whipped the gun out his pants and pointed it at Jeffrey.
"Get the fuck out my way, you greasy prick!" he snapped.
"What the fuck, man?" Jeffrey shouted, backing away with his hands raised, "You're crazy! You had a gun the whole time?"
"Quit being a pussy, Jeffery!" Big Shark yelled, "He's bluffing! That fucking gun is fake! And even if it was real, what fifteen year old junkie punk would know how to use it?"
"If you don't let me out of this shithole crackhouse in ten seconds, this'll become an armed robbery," Seth warned.
"You threatening me, kid?" Big Shark spat, coming closer.
Seth pointed the gun at Big Shark; "This gun has killed one man already. I'd hate to add to its toll."
Technically, it was a suicide, yes, but he wasn't about to tell these two wastes of flesh that.
Seth counted in his head as Big Shark waddled towards him. Once he got to zero, he fired the gun, causing the enormous man to leap back like a cartoon elephant afraid of a mouse. However, he chose not to fire the gun at that bottom-feeding motherfucker.
The only new item in the room, a large 47 inch TV, was shattered on impact from the bullet. He then pointed the gun at Big Shark, ignoring the way his ears were ringing from the gun firing.
"Give me all your smack and I might just turn around and 'forget' this bullshit even happened," Seth demanded.
This was a first for him and probably the last time he'd ever do such a thing; robbing a pair of lowlifes. However, robbing them would serve two purposes; it would slow down their operation of luring teen junkies to their lair, foremost, and it'd also feed his ever-growing need for more heroin for a while.
"So that's it, huh?" Big Shark scoffed, still in shock, "You're going to rob us at gunpoint?"
"I'm a junkie and therefore, not a nice person," Seth stated behind the gun, "If you want to save your ever-widening ass, I'd put your entire smack supply on the table."
When Big Shark noticed the deadly glint in Seth's youthful eyes, he turned to Jeffrey who looked like he was about to piss his pants.
"Go get him what he wants," the large man relented. When Jeffrey looked at Big Shark like he was crazy, he shouted more alarmingly; "Move your ass!"
Jeffrey moved to the back of the house like someone lit a match under his ass. It would've been comical if it weren't for the situation at hand.
Big Shark wiped the sweat from his bald head; "I gotta admit, this is a first for me. Usually the kids we nab don't end up packin' heat."
"I must be special then," Seth replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
Jeffrey returned, carrying enough heroin to last him for an entire month. The dreadlocked teen gingerly set the stash in front of Seth and backed up.
Seth quickly snatched up the Ziploc baggie containing the stash and put it in his satchel, lowering his gun for a moment. These dipshits are at least smart enough to not try to take the gun from him, Seth noted.
"You got your shit," Big Shark blubbered, "Now, get the fuck outta here!"
"With pleasure," Seth shot back, raising the gun again as he backed up into the door, not believing his luck of getting out of the situation unscathed.
Once he exited the house, he ran home as fast as he could, still awestruck. It was as if his Uncle had been protecting him in that horrible house. He didn't even want to think about how many teen junkies hadn't been so lucky.
He passed by his mom, who was clutching a picture of old Uncle Roy and paying him little mind. He decided to leave her be and headed into his room. Before he shot up again, he made the conscious decision to send the local police an anonymous tip about Big Shark, but that'll have to wait until he sobers up again. For now, he's going to indulge in his spoils.