Konnichiwa!

Here I am again. Now, first I want to thank my dearest reviewers, who were so kind to review, obviously! This chapter is in Kai's POV. Excuse me if there are spelling and grammar faults in it.


The first time I stole money I had been upset about it for a whole week. Not that I showed it. Oh no, I am very good at hiding my suprisingly wide range of emotions. No-one ever had ever known about my feelings. Later I couldn't hide some of them anymore. While you were waiting for the medicine you needed to talk, otherwise you were driven to insanity. When the God was late we needed to express our fears.
We had to have the medicine every day. We were sick, we needed it. We were sick from reality. We needed to heal from it and from the awful truths it contained. The reality in which we 'junks', as they call us, were not important nor necesary. Actually, we were of negative influence and not one person thought we deserved attention. Only the God did.
Every day. Every day the waiting, the craving, the pessimism. But it was worth it. Oh fuck, it was. Because a shot can give you the most amazing feeling in the world.

I started to feel sick again. Like I always felt when the day went by. Where was the God? Ironically, I don't believe in God. He left me too many times on my own to rot. No, the God was the person who delivered us the medicine. We didn't know his real name, we didn't care and we never asked. But in our eyes, he was God.

I shivered. When was he coming? He would come, right? Right? These fears, these doubts. Always present in my everyday life. I tried to think of something else. My thoughts drifted to my family. An even less pleasant subject to think about. My parents, I can't remember them. I only knew that mother had left me and my father when I was three. She prefered a man far younger and richer than my father. Next thing I remember, my father was dead from drunk driving. Not a big loss, if you ask me, but he by far not as bad as the man who took care of me ever since the accident. That would be my grandfather.
The years at my grandfather's began when I was 10 years old. Those are the worst memories I can remember. He was totally embittered by the death of grandmother, and that made him even more cruel than he already was by nature. I can clearly remember how he enjoyed beating me over and over again with anything he could find, be it a belt or a chain. A day wasn't complete for my dear ol' Pops without a good spanking. No sir! It made me strong, but I never asked to be strong. Even in the past my opinion was unimportant.
I ran away when I was 14. Ten years of torture every day. I still wonder why I didn't leave that house earlier. Right now everything was okay again, though. I had the medicine to heal me. Forever and always.

"Where's the God?" a newbie whined, not yet used to getting trough the hours leading up to the arrival of the God.
"He'll come," Kirsten snapped back at the newbie. The little kid was lying down on the bed that used to belong to Chester. He had been a good friend of mine. However, the God said that Chester didn't need the medicine anymore. So I was happy for him. Back then I didn't know what 'not needing the medicine anymore' meant.

Kirsten had calmed the newbie. You don't know how good Kirsten was at fucking somebody. Not like I had ever experienced it. I wish I had, though. Her little adventures were so famous that you just heard men talking about their experiences with her while walking around the city. Kirsten only used powder, no needles. That's why men weren't afraid of her. Needles left their trails. I used needles, and that was clearly visible. That's why I wore Chester's old jacket and sunglasses every time I went to the centre of Brussels. Not when I was in the poor neighborhoods like the Marollen. Nobody cared there.

Suddenly the door opened. The God stood in the door-way. All the people in the room scurried towards him, crawling over each other to get their amount of medicine. I waited in line and paid for my share, moving to my matras and watching as the God walked to the door again. He kicked the people who begged for more than what they paid for.
I didn't care. I just made the medicine ready for use. Putting some of the heroin on a spoon with accid, adding water, lighting the candle, spoon above the candle, syringe and shoe lace nearby. It had become a ritual. I laid down as the needle pushed deeper into the vein of my elbow.

The intoxication took over my thoughts, dreams started chasing away reality, my real reality was starting now. Then I was gone.


This was the second chapter and I hope you liked it. I'm thanking all my reviewers again. Thank you!

Reviews are always more than welcome!

Ja!