I'm back again with a chapter that is strictly Austin and his thoughts. Hope you like it.
Chapter 5: Little Black Submarines
He kept the bills paid. The house was dark, cold and empty. The cars had moved into the garage. A thin layer of dust covered everything. The fruit in the kitchen had become moldy, as did most of what was in the fridge. He hadn't had much of an appetite. Maybe he should clean it out, they'd be mad if he let the house go. He wouldn't get his allowance if he didn't take care of the house while his parents were away.
Your parents are dead, remember?
"They're... away."
No. Stop deluding yourself, Austin. They're dead. You put them on the mantle. He glanced over to the fireplace, two small urns on either end, pictures above both. Mike on the left, Mimi on the right. He trudged to his room and laid down in his bed.
All he wanted was to feel normal again. No, he wanted to be normal. For her. Prom was tomorrow and he was in absolute agony. His entire body was engulfed in a dull ache, his shoulder was burning. His head hurt so bad, he could only assume his brain had been completely liquified and was splattered and dripping down the front of his skull. He hadn't slept last night. He stayed up all night, sweating bullets and shaking. His nose and eyes were running. He was a complete mess.
What would Ally think of him if she was him now? Would she stay by his side or would she run? His thoughts were racing. The anxiety was killing him slowly and the pain was unreal.
You need it, Austin. He wondered if she had finally picked out her dress. He'd been dress shopping with her and Trish before, it generally consisted of Ally trying on several different dresses and Trish telling her how she looked. Austin usually wasn't allowed to say anything; he thought Ally looked gorgeous in anything she wore. You need it. Get up and take it. You left so you could take it and not drag her down with you.
"I don't want to, I don't need it. All I want is her." He wanted to call Ally, he wanted to tell her that he loved her. That he appreciated her worry. His phone was ringing - it was Dez.
You'd be able to pick it up if you'd just give in. The ringing was grating on his ears. He threw his phone over to his desk and heard the clattering of pill bottles. His stomach turned. He wanted to throw up. See? You need it.
"I don't need it. I'm not addicted. I can stop whenever I want to. I just did stop and I'm not going to start again. Ever." Everything had to be perfect tomorrow. It had to be. He hadn't had a chance to pick up his tuxedo, so that was probably why Dez called. To remind him. He went to roll out of bed and ended up landing on his right shoulder. He saw stars and felt dread and adrenaline course through his veins. He audibly cursed and rolled to his left side, curling up into a ball on the floor. His phone beeped; Dez had left a voicemail. "That doesn't change anything. I don't fucking need it."
You can't fool me. You did that on purpose. How are you going to get your tuxedo if you can't even function? Just reach out and grab them. All this pain will end when you do.
Alone and in the dark, he wrestled with temptation. Maybe he did need his pills. Half of one pill kept his shoulder pain free and his grief in check. The other kept him from failing out of school. And when he paired them together? He felt amazing. He'd be able to take Ally to the prom. But with every pro, there was a con. If he took them, the side effects would hit him; he'd get nauseous. Ally would worry. But if he didn't take the pills, he would just degrade into sickness again. He wouldn't be able to take Ally to the prom. She would worry.
You're addicted. Just take the pills. He picked up the pill bottles and stared. You need these to function now. Take them. Take Ally to prom. He removed the lid and fished around for his pill cutter. Good. He wasn't sure when he'd started crushing his pills, but the effects hit faster. Half of that will take the edge off. Austin crushed the pills together and closed off one nostril with a shaking hand.
Startled by his ringtone, he fumbled with the pill dust, scattering it across the floor. He audibly cursed, looking at the screen.
Ally. It was Ally. Should he pick it up? Could he pick it up? He kept staring at it, feeling like a child caught cheating. His heart sunk, his chest tightened and he let voicemail take her call. Austin cradled the phone in his hands, staring at the voicemail notification. He brought the phone to his forehead and closed his eyes.
If he took the pills, he could see her; they could go to prom. The euphoria would set in and the grief would melt away. If he took the pills, he lost himself and he might lose her. If he didn't take the pills, he would stay sick. The pain of his grief and his injuries would remain almost unbearable.
"You have two new messages. First unheard message-"
"Hey, buddy! I picked up your tux. It's baby blue cause you're a - ow! Trish! I was going to say studmuffin! Anyway, you still going with what's her face? You know the one. Girl about ye high and always hangs around us? Dude, senior prom is gonna be awesome! Hey man, I uh... I hope you're okay."
"End of message. Next unheard message-"
"H-hey Austin. It's Ally. I was just wondering how you were. You haven't shown up to the Factory in two days. No one's heard from you. Dez tried calling you. Your tuxedo is ready... he picked it up for you and... we're really worried." There was an awkward pause. "Call me back when you have the chance. Please, be okay. I... I love you, Austin." He crushed the remaining half of the pills and lined it up.
"End of message. To repeat his message, press one. To delete this message, press two. To hear more options, press 3." He repeated the message, trying to figure out what to do.
There's no way you'll be done with withdrawal by 7pm tomorrow.
He stared at the phone, closed off one nostril, exhaled and brought the powder to his face. Inhaling deeply, he found himself drowning in self-loathing. He hated himself for being so weak. He hated himself for lying to everyone and worrying Ally.
The pain melted away, along with his guilt and self-loathing. Nothing mattered. He laid back, dropped his phone and smiled.
There was nothing quite like a head rush.
The title chapter: Little Black Submarines by The Black Keys.