The Deepest Depths Of High

Disclaimer: I don't own Mort (why can't I keep him, mom??), or anything else from Stephen King or David Koepp.

Summary: Morts divorce left him feeling so empty and useless. Instead of moving on hes moving on to different things. He starts out with drugs which turns into an addiction but then a new girl enters his life. But can anyone save him now? R for language sexuality and extreme drug & alcohol use.

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while...I've been workin on my new fic Living In Your to think of it, I haven't written my POTC one in like forever!! Better get working on that lol. By the way...this chapter's pretty deep ---Razz

Chapter Five:

The rain had finally subsided after many long hours of loneliness after Tiffany left. God, she made me so happy...ha, she was like my anti-drug....

But when she wasn't with me, I had no anti-drug. I had no reason not to take my drugs. But right now, I didn't have anything to drug myself with...so I just settled on cigarettes for now. I sat there on the couch, staring into the dark fireplace, smoking a new cigarette when I heard the phone ring. I prayed that it was Tiffany....

Of course it wasn't.

"Hi, Mort."

"Oh...hi, Amy."

"How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"I haven't heard anything from you in a while....I was getting worried...."

"Why would you care?"

"I don't know...I mean, I care about you. You know that, right?"

I laughed softly to myself. How the fuck could she care about me after what she put me through?

"Yeah, okay, Amy...."

"Well, I was just checking up on you."

"Amy...I don't exactly need to be checked up on."

"Oh...well, sorry." She hung up.

I couldn't help but feel like Amy was a bit too literal. What was the meaning of these pointless phone calls? No meaning....

Just like this world...has no meaning....

Well, here we go into the self-pity of Mort Rainey.

I had noticed that John Shooter had been speaking an excessive amount more than he used to and fear was the only thing I felt when I heard his voice. It was blood-chilling and heart-stopping.

"Why don't you just please go away, Mr. Shooter?"

Now you want me gone? A while ago, I was the only thing that kept you alive. But your life is pointless, Mr. Rainey....You're only existing because you're the result of the mistake your parents made when they were nineteen-

"SHUT UP!" I found myself clutching the rims of my ears again, trying to stop the voices from continuing. "SHUT UP, SHOOTER!"

You know the real reason you keep yourself locked up here all this time? You can't help but drown yourself in your self-pity. You can't help but wait for someone to knock on your door and be reasonable enough to help you, like Tiffany-

"No! Don't ever mention Tiffany! EVER!"

But soon she'll just be welcomed into your life just like everyone else, who does exactly the opposite of you want- they destroy you.

This was pointless! "JUST-SHUT-UP!"

You sit up here in your little house by the lake, thinking nobody cares anymore....But really, it's you who doesn't care anymore....You're demolishing the Mort Rainey that was born thirty-five years ago. You're keeping yourself locked up, continuing to let yourself bleed-

I stumbled into the bathroom, the voices and ringing in my ears mixing together to create an awful, disturbing sound. It was blurring my vision....My hands fumbled through the medicine cabinet and pulled out any kind of bottle that made a rattling noise, such as pills. I took a glass and filled it with tap water and started to down it all....

Look what you're doing....Just think about it....

I then searched for anything liquid I could drink down....Not bothering to read what it was before I took it, I drank it all as well. I just wanted this to all go away....And it did. As I hit the cold wooden floor of the bathroom....it did. Everything went black once again and I resumed the same dead feeling I had felt several days ago.

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"Mort...oh, God...Mort, sweetie, wake up! Oh, God, wake up...."

I could hear distant bits and pieces of someone's voice and my numb body could barely feel a warm body sitting next to my cold one. My eyes refused to open....I had returned to the hazy world of awakening. Everything was blurry and dark...The only thing I could distinctly see was a pair of bright green eyes, looking frightened. I tried to keep my eyes open to be able to look into hers, but I couldn't. They were too heavy and defected. I layed there, not knowing what was going on around me. My head seemed as heavy as a dozen bowling balls and my face was soaking in either tears or sweat. There was no way for me to tell. I could feel things happening to my body as if I was being operated on, but I began to wonder why anyone would operate in such an insanitary, small and cramped bathroom of a house that I psychotic stoner owns.

Still...I could only hear little bites out of what several people were saying around me. From the little pieces of their conversation that I could hear...It seemed as if Tiffany had found me here about twenty minutes ago and had called an ambulance. Soon I could feel my body being lifted up and placed somewhere different. I honestly didn't want to go anywhere. I liked the stone cold bathroom floor just fine. I liked feeling my body disintegrate into nothingness as slowly as possible. And with ambulances, everything has to go as fast as possible, it seems.

I truly woke up in what semed about three hours later. Everything was still blurry after I opened my eyes, and all I could hear were muffled voices all around me. It was highly frightening, knowing that people were around you, but you didn't know who they are or what they're saying. I wanted to go home and lay on my couch. Just to think. Just to think of a new story...or the next time I'd see Tiffany...or to think about what kind of damage I'd done to myself....

It occured to me that I was currently living in a foggy world where nobody knew me. Nobody knew me except a green-eyes girl named Tiffany. Nobody knew my story...except Tiffany. She was my only hope in this world...whatever this world was. I believed myself when I realized she was the only one who could get me through this. Because from the blurred images that were apparently alive, none of them I recognized except for the brown-ish red-headed girl with the dazzling green eyes. She was the only one who had come to help me.

No! I couldn't go on saying things like this! Amy had just got done telling me several hours ago that she cared about me....But if she cared, she would know about the drugs, wouldn't she? I fascinated myself, watching my mind work right before my eyes even though I was probably inches away from death. I looked around and noticed I was now alone in this hospital room.

My vision was slowly coming back. Very slowly...I still couldn't see barely anything...But I could see that I didn't want to be here....The walls I was enclosed in were the palest of white....There was a window with blinds to my right...or was it left...I couldn't remember at the moment...that were leading into another part of the hospital. I wondered what kind of hospital I was in anyway....Medical? Psychiatric? ...Rehab?

Just when I thought nobody would come back for me, the sweet, gorgeous green-eyed girl walked through the doorway. But her green eyes were gone. They were almost blue actually....They were so full of tears. I began to wonder what could be troubling her so much, but her words to me explained everything.

"...Mort...We're going to help you, okay?"

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A/N: Oooooookay then lol. Sorry it's kinda short. I've been writing FFs all night! lol well hope you like it! Tell me what you think! ---Razz