1 *Nopers… Ooo, two songs this time, coz I don't know which is better for
the chapter.*
"Every night I burn, every night I call your name, every night I burn, every night I fall again. Don't talk of love 'cause shadows blur, murmuring me away from you. Don't talk of worlds that never were, the end is always ever true. There's nothing you can ever say nothing you can ever do… Still, every night I burn, every night I scream your name…" -The Cure-
"It's raining stones, it's raining bile from the luxury of your denial. So I don't deny, I don't make do, I'll press alarms, place bets on truth. I'll spit on floors and do more drugs, burn every bill, get drunk on love. Wear next to nothing in the pouring rain, be a bad example and do it all again. I'll be un-careful, I'll cause such scenes, and I'll never talk of used-to- bes. Tattoo my face, I won't go gray, be a dancing queen. I'm growing old disgracefully. I'm so up and down, and I love what's not allowed. I was lost, now I see: and now I'm growing old disgracefully." -Chumbawumba
Chapter 5:
She hated that I did drugs, and I hated that she hated that. It's not like I could wake up one day and just be like, 'hmm, heron, ecstasy, and speed are bad for me, I'll stop,' all cold turkey and shit. And besides, I didn't want to. That feeling you get behind your eyes right after you pop a tab, or the way the smack tingles when it's pulsing through your veins… There's nothing better than that. Well, sex sometimes, but, well, ya know. Anyways, she made me promise I'd stop doing drugs, and when I agreed to stop, I meant I'd stop getting caught.
Well, that really didn't last for as long as I wanted it to. About two and a half months before I slipped up and came stumbling in late when she was spending the night…
It was dark in the room save for the flickering blue light emanating from the television. Roger slipped in quietly, making sure the door didn't slam behind him, and then walked into the main room. He was about to drop his guitar on the floor when the TV snapped to black, causing him to jump back an inch.
"You're late," she whispered, staring ahead at the dark box.
Hitting himself on the forehead lightly, he moved around to plop on the couch beside her. "Jesus, I totally forgot. I'm so sorry…" He reached out to pull her closer, but she scooted away.
Reaching to the table, April flicked on the lamp. "Let me guess. Late practice with the guys that you forgot to mention this morning?" He started to nod as she continued. "I found this in your room… I was looking for my birth control…" She held up a used, dirty needle and syringe. "I'm guessing this is really old and you just, ya know, forgot to throw it away when you were getting rid of everything, right?" He went to nod again and she started to laugh a little. "Then I found a couple more, and this one… It's still half full… So tell me, Roge, you been lying about this whole getting clean and making this work thing? Cause if you don't want to do this, I can go back to my dorm…"
He grabbed her hand and shook his head wildly. "No, no… I want this to work… I lo-"
"You love me, I know. You love me so much you'll lie to me so you can fuck yourself up." She looked down at the half full syringe, turning it over and over again in her fingers. "This looks like it's still good. It just goes… where?" She pulled up her sleeve and ran a finger along her smooth arm. She stopped and stared down at the bend in her elbow. "Here, right? I watched you do this a couple of times…"
He grabbed at her hand, but she jerked away. "April! Don't…"
She looked up at him, staring in his eyes as tears fell from hers. "Every time I find out you do this, so will I…" She tore her gaze from his and stared back down at her arm for a second, then, with a sharp breath, she closed her eyes as she jammed the needle into her arm, emptying the contents into her veins. After a second of just sitting there, not believing she'd actually done it, she pulled it out of her arm, dropping it onto the couch cushion.
"April, what the fuck are you doing!" he screamed, grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her to face him. "Jesus, April…" He pulled her arm up and stared at it, brushing his fingers along the swollen needle mark. "How could you do something so fucking stupid…?"
She looked up at him. "How can you do it every fucking day? Now you know what it feels like to watch somebody you love kill themselves with this shit…" She pushed herself up, grasping the arm of the couch tightly. "If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go throw up and pass out at the same time." She started down the hall, heading to the closet sized excuse for a bathroom.
Roger shot up from his seat to go after her when the door to Mark's room popped open. He stepped out in boxers, rubbing at his eyes as he put on his glasses, managing to still be able to glare at Roger in his sleepy daze. "What the hell's all the yelling about…"
"She found my stash, she shot up…" He grabbed Mark by the shoulders. "I don't know what to do."
"Stop shooting up yourself," he muttered, pushing Roger away.
"Fuck you… Neither one of you fucking understand."
"Yeah, I understand, you're an asshole," he growled, turning to walk in the bathroom.
"I don't need to take that shit from you…" he started, following him down the short hall.
He spun around. "Then get out of here, runaway… Go shoot up somewhere else…" He turned away again and knocked on the bathroom door before slipping in. He closed it an inch, then shifted around so he could kneel beside April as she kept her head in the toilet. Leaning in, he rubbed her back lightly as he whispered, "Don't you ever fucking do that again…"
Roger pushed the door back open and leaned in, watching them silently. After a minute, he backed down the hall and, with guitar in hand, busted out the door…
Yeah, I don't see why everyone makes these cracks about Mark being like secretly gay or whatever, that he wants me. Benny's done it, Collins' done it. Hell, even Maureen's done it; but that was bullshit. He never wanted me; he wanted her. He dealt with me then because of her, and now that she's dead he deals with me because I'm the last thing he has of her. I mean, we're friends and all that, but that's because of what we both went through when she did it… God, he had so many pictures of her… I wonder if Maureen ever noticed.
"Every night I burn, every night I call your name, every night I burn, every night I fall again. Don't talk of love 'cause shadows blur, murmuring me away from you. Don't talk of worlds that never were, the end is always ever true. There's nothing you can ever say nothing you can ever do… Still, every night I burn, every night I scream your name…" -The Cure-
"It's raining stones, it's raining bile from the luxury of your denial. So I don't deny, I don't make do, I'll press alarms, place bets on truth. I'll spit on floors and do more drugs, burn every bill, get drunk on love. Wear next to nothing in the pouring rain, be a bad example and do it all again. I'll be un-careful, I'll cause such scenes, and I'll never talk of used-to- bes. Tattoo my face, I won't go gray, be a dancing queen. I'm growing old disgracefully. I'm so up and down, and I love what's not allowed. I was lost, now I see: and now I'm growing old disgracefully." -Chumbawumba
Chapter 5:
She hated that I did drugs, and I hated that she hated that. It's not like I could wake up one day and just be like, 'hmm, heron, ecstasy, and speed are bad for me, I'll stop,' all cold turkey and shit. And besides, I didn't want to. That feeling you get behind your eyes right after you pop a tab, or the way the smack tingles when it's pulsing through your veins… There's nothing better than that. Well, sex sometimes, but, well, ya know. Anyways, she made me promise I'd stop doing drugs, and when I agreed to stop, I meant I'd stop getting caught.
Well, that really didn't last for as long as I wanted it to. About two and a half months before I slipped up and came stumbling in late when she was spending the night…
It was dark in the room save for the flickering blue light emanating from the television. Roger slipped in quietly, making sure the door didn't slam behind him, and then walked into the main room. He was about to drop his guitar on the floor when the TV snapped to black, causing him to jump back an inch.
"You're late," she whispered, staring ahead at the dark box.
Hitting himself on the forehead lightly, he moved around to plop on the couch beside her. "Jesus, I totally forgot. I'm so sorry…" He reached out to pull her closer, but she scooted away.
Reaching to the table, April flicked on the lamp. "Let me guess. Late practice with the guys that you forgot to mention this morning?" He started to nod as she continued. "I found this in your room… I was looking for my birth control…" She held up a used, dirty needle and syringe. "I'm guessing this is really old and you just, ya know, forgot to throw it away when you were getting rid of everything, right?" He went to nod again and she started to laugh a little. "Then I found a couple more, and this one… It's still half full… So tell me, Roge, you been lying about this whole getting clean and making this work thing? Cause if you don't want to do this, I can go back to my dorm…"
He grabbed her hand and shook his head wildly. "No, no… I want this to work… I lo-"
"You love me, I know. You love me so much you'll lie to me so you can fuck yourself up." She looked down at the half full syringe, turning it over and over again in her fingers. "This looks like it's still good. It just goes… where?" She pulled up her sleeve and ran a finger along her smooth arm. She stopped and stared down at the bend in her elbow. "Here, right? I watched you do this a couple of times…"
He grabbed at her hand, but she jerked away. "April! Don't…"
She looked up at him, staring in his eyes as tears fell from hers. "Every time I find out you do this, so will I…" She tore her gaze from his and stared back down at her arm for a second, then, with a sharp breath, she closed her eyes as she jammed the needle into her arm, emptying the contents into her veins. After a second of just sitting there, not believing she'd actually done it, she pulled it out of her arm, dropping it onto the couch cushion.
"April, what the fuck are you doing!" he screamed, grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her to face him. "Jesus, April…" He pulled her arm up and stared at it, brushing his fingers along the swollen needle mark. "How could you do something so fucking stupid…?"
She looked up at him. "How can you do it every fucking day? Now you know what it feels like to watch somebody you love kill themselves with this shit…" She pushed herself up, grasping the arm of the couch tightly. "If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go throw up and pass out at the same time." She started down the hall, heading to the closet sized excuse for a bathroom.
Roger shot up from his seat to go after her when the door to Mark's room popped open. He stepped out in boxers, rubbing at his eyes as he put on his glasses, managing to still be able to glare at Roger in his sleepy daze. "What the hell's all the yelling about…"
"She found my stash, she shot up…" He grabbed Mark by the shoulders. "I don't know what to do."
"Stop shooting up yourself," he muttered, pushing Roger away.
"Fuck you… Neither one of you fucking understand."
"Yeah, I understand, you're an asshole," he growled, turning to walk in the bathroom.
"I don't need to take that shit from you…" he started, following him down the short hall.
He spun around. "Then get out of here, runaway… Go shoot up somewhere else…" He turned away again and knocked on the bathroom door before slipping in. He closed it an inch, then shifted around so he could kneel beside April as she kept her head in the toilet. Leaning in, he rubbed her back lightly as he whispered, "Don't you ever fucking do that again…"
Roger pushed the door back open and leaned in, watching them silently. After a minute, he backed down the hall and, with guitar in hand, busted out the door…
Yeah, I don't see why everyone makes these cracks about Mark being like secretly gay or whatever, that he wants me. Benny's done it, Collins' done it. Hell, even Maureen's done it; but that was bullshit. He never wanted me; he wanted her. He dealt with me then because of her, and now that she's dead he deals with me because I'm the last thing he has of her. I mean, we're friends and all that, but that's because of what we both went through when she did it… God, he had so many pictures of her… I wonder if Maureen ever noticed.