*Sherry*
As all mornings arrive, you wake up, but to what? Jake was scouting out the deli across the street as if it were a reconnaissance mission. His face was all lost on Sherry. Of all the time she had pooled with him during their bullet storms it amounted to her knowing clearly he was gallant in his tactical procedures.
"Something the matter? Lose something?" Sherry throwing a cocky face at him.
Jake rose his finger at her in a snide manner. "Shit. Feds got em." Jake wiping his face swooshing air out of his lungs.
"Standing pretty tall I see. Those green herbs we smoked must've hit the spot. Lucky we didn't get busted either." Sherry said.
"It's not funny Sherry. You're barking at the wrong tree, and a branch is going to fling itself a yard away to play fetch." Jake making a finger with his index and jabbing it at the direction of the deli. "That's my favorite spot." Jake losing all hope as a man would in Hell.
Sherry let her mouth gape with a stern lower of her brow.
"I'm not some dog. And it was me who took care of business" Sherry getting more heated.
"Of course. I appreciate over protectiveness, but you failed to protect me." Jake letting her view the side of his face as he waved his hand at her looking through the blinds of the window again.
"Seriously Jake? I take names, and crack skulls for this kind of treatment." She said in a hurt and discomposed way.
"I have some problems with that Pandora's box you couldn't help but open." Jake at the door.
"Where are you going? What the fuck?" Sherry having nothing to protect her from apprehension.
"I need to get the drugs from their stash. I have an finger prints on those. I sold it to those guys for rent money." Jake expecting her to chain him to the wall like a dog.
"Look! There goes Jake through the sun roof! Running with drugs in his hands and getting shot at least a hundred time by several jumpy feds! Listen to yourself… If you expect me to do that you're an idiot." Sherry said.
Jake brought a closed fist to his forehead. His chest rose in quick successions, bearing witness to his state, Sherry felt herself feel tiny, tiny and regretful. It was gut-wrenching to say the least. Jake sat on the couch folding his hands and letting his head rest an inch above his knees. He disclosed that he was on Heroin for quite some time. Sherry promptly kicked him out after she found the syringe scars on his ankle.
*Jake*
BOOM BOOM BOOM!
"Go away I got no rent money." Jake's volume range being heard by a suburban town miles apart from the city.
"You wouldn't wanna open the door for an old friend?"
Again it was time for Sherry to greet him at a moment where life was vanquishing him thoroughly. His hands unable to remain motionless. Sherry gasped as the doors let light pour into the room, pour onto him. His sweat glistening from the light. His words matched his body, twins almost, unable to form a sentence without shuddering and stuttering.
Sherry and him held a conversation for ten minutes for what really should have been summed up into three. The whole time the fallen soldier knew she wasn't having her mind on the conversation but his kilter. He could see it in her eyes. She compassionately offered to spend some nights with him, mainly to aid him which she professed was only done as a favor and not something other. Which Jake found as an oddity.
Jake remains in his bed. A mind teeming with a whole life's trauma. Cravings were his God, his judgement, and his inevitable end. He prayed to God but no one answered. The prying feds had done a clean house of the city. Even then he had spent countless hours trying to get his hands on some, until he was placed on house arrest. Before Sherry's visit of course.
His head suddenly pounds at him, like a door locked and his key jamming inside to open to his old home of soberness.
A feeling as though the cosmos shrunk and made his stomach a sponge. Puke, bile, vomit, stomach fluid, all flowing continuously into the toilet in a stream.
*Sherry*
"You'll get through this." Sherry at the door in a moment's notice.
That's when she noticed the scars on his forearms. For a split second she was going to be embroiled in rage, until she realized those were lines, done by a razor.
"Jake, we need to get you to a hospital." Sherry's brow knitting.
"Fuck! Fucking deli!" Jake hissing before more vomit came out. Unable to catch a breath.
After some mouth wash, and teeth brushing he laid on the couch. Sherry laid a blanket over the downcast man, she once harbored ill will for unfortunately. He gave a fright of a yell, before realizing it was Sherry. Sherry planted her lips on his forehead. For a second she paused to process what she had done but he just panted out a single laugh. She went to her room, which was his as the tragic fellow had offered it on her first day.
She could hear his breathing and scoffs from her room. She remembered when she kicked him out, then an epiphany dawned on her. She did this. She was the reason for his extremity. Her eyes watered up.
The next day she found Jake in a pool of sweat encompassing his shirt, in a corner with his hands on the wall. He sunk against the wall and clenched his jaw, breathing rapidly. She had just came home and brought him some Subutex.
The days dragged on. And Sherry felt like she had righted her reckless deeds prior.
"Sherry." Jake could barely be heard but she knelt to his level.
"Lose something?" She put her hand on his chest to feel his heart beat.
"Thank you." Jake said.
"You're welcome. Whoa! There there." Sherry grinning as she found herself in a hug.
"For not giving up on me." Jake holding her tighter now.
Sherry's face grew pink, thank God his eyes were shut.
"I did once. Never again." Sherry replied.