12 A.M.
3 A.M.
5 A.M.
Another all-nighter. But it was normal as could be. Sleep was typically resented. It wasn't the most wholesome breeze of living, but it 'got the job done', if you know what I mean.
Job? What job? Craig was a young boy who was just in bearing high school? What job required him to stay up all night half the time? What job kept his eyes burning with rejuvenation and nonstop intensity? What kept a young boy up that could almost throw a grown man into insanity? Yet. . . the boy being insane, but completely collapsing at the same time?
Maybe cocaine.
Maybe shitty wall banging sex every night from the neighbors, as his sister put it.
Maybe life.
Alright, now let's start from the beginning. Again.
August 13th, 2009. Little Craig was starting his 5th grade year of Elementary School. In all honesty, he was more ecstatic then he seemed. Like always. And boy were the teachers big! Not obese, but there was nothing against obese people and- He just couldn't think. Childish thoughts.
Anyways, the young'n just wandered the halls and courts. He inevitably explored every corner of his new hall, new desks, new lemon pledge, new everything. New school years are always magical. It feels like a new start. New friends. New life.
But that was just school. Again, the childish thoughts and words. Nothing but a child's play.
Until his dad got home that night.
Craig had involuntarily rambled on and on about how some things sucked, some things were better. Like the teacher wasn't Mr./Mrs. Mackey, and how she was actually nice and let them use crayons and spaghetti today. And how they had soy-chicken or beef or whatever the school allowed with velvet cake, and white broccoli stuff. . . What was it. . . May Flower. . . Cauliflower! That was it!
And right dab in the middle, their father burst in, Chinese in one hand and a brown, shit looking bag in the other. It wasn't his concern at the moment, due to the aura and dazing smell of Chinese food, but it still sparked a little curiosity in his mind.
His mother gave their father one of the most serious looks they had ever seen, and Craig was about to ask what the bag was, and why his father had it, but both parents were already a fourth of the way up the steps. It might not have been much, but it was best not to disturb his parents privacy right now. It seemed serious.
And so the night was carried away with loud and obnoxious loitering, singing, and complete and casual insanity. The young boy had no idea what was going on, nor to expect. It was simply dull and blurring. Nothing seemed right, but yet it all seemed well.
But you know, after a while, that little bit of curiosity gets the best of you. It sends you into overdrive, fully determined what to think and how to get away with what. And that little brown bag brought in slowly and more frequently was getting on his nerves. Most times a week his parents didn't exactly act right at night. Now he couldn't exactly see them, but the sense was overwhelming.
One day, the bag was left on the counter. He was home alone from school, as his father was at work, and his mother was at a soccer game with his younger sister. That little parchment bag. Right there in front of him.
He gave in.
He quietly opened the wrinkled and statically damaged paper bag. It contained one of the smallest and cutest bags he had ever seen. It was like a Zip-Lock, but about the size of his index finder. And inside, well, it looked like powdered sugar. And Craig wasn't the one to deny anything sugary and sweet.
And his innocent mind played a trick on him. The boy opened it up gently and took a pinch between his thumb and index. Maybe this was why his parents were strange. They were always hyped up on sugar! Craig didn't mind a little. He could defend himself like a super hero and resist most of the time. Maybe adult were weaker to the substance.
A little taste wouldn't hurt.
The rough yet smooth texture of it burned his tongue slightly, and his throat immensely dried. A pheromone at the back of his head triggered, and he stayed away from that god awful shit. What the fuck was that? Why did his parents want it? He gently and shakily closed the bag and set it all back to normal, trying to ignore what he had just done. But in the end, why would it even end well?
Soon the addictive setting kicked in, his parents now fighting all the time and nonstop yelling and smashing items. They were kind in front of others, but once at home all hell unleashed. Craig tried to ignore it, and did. His parents fighting wasn't all that bad. But his addiction was.
He soon learned what he had took and why it was so bad and why his parents wanted it. It was Crack/Cocaine. He was always told by those school seminars to 'Stay Drug Free', and 'Never do it; Not even once'. They were right.
The additive was so invigorating and toxic. But he wanted more. And more he learned to get.
His life stirred into madness. He was out on the streets almost any night of the week he could, selling and buying the drug. It was his new way. It was his old way.
It was him.
Yay! Woop woop. Another one and another tale. I'll probably add another chapter tonight. I'm already captivating myself!