Chapter 5

"About what happened back there," I said as we stood at the end of the pier, staring out at the black water. She turned in my direction to gaze into my eyes, as if urging me to continue.

"What I mean is shouldn't we call the police or something? I-I think I saw that psycho...eating some-" She held up her hand, cutting me off.

"It wasn't what you thought." Her voice sang out. It was beautiful to listen to. Even though her sing-song words had me in a trance, I couldn't shake the quiet fear the still lingered in the back of my head.

"Well, what was it then?" I asked, distress obvious in my voice. "It seemed like a pretty fucked up situation to me." Her eyes locked onto mine and I choked on my words. I was unable to speak with her eyes boring into me like that, as if they penetrated through to my soul. She leaned in closer to me, speaking in a harsh whisper.

"I said forget about it. The more you try to figure it out, the worse... – it was just a case of intoxication. It was dark and there was alcohol involved. Leave it at that!" Her words burned into me and I tried desperately to convince myself that what she said was the whole, absolute truth. I wanted her to approve of me so badly, even if it meant agreeing to her version of the previous events. But my mind still lingered on the dark alley and my close encounter. I shivered. Those sounds...those sights. The goosebumps made a triumphant return all over my body. I wouldn't let this go, but for the time being I would drop the subject to please this goddess that had humored me with conversation. We stood in silence for a minute, while I contemplated what to say next.

"I'm Conor James," I said extending my hand. She merely eyed it until I felt awkward and lowered it back to my side. "Um, I'm new in town – just got in today." It sounded more like a question to me than a statement. Why was I so damn nervous? Searching for words that had escaped me I continued babbling, making small talk. "It was a long flight – from Florida to Seattle. My friend Ben is letting me stay with him for a while. He's the only person I know here." I felt like an idiot for talking so much, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

She didn't say anything at first. I was about to open my mouth when she finally spoke up, my heart fluttering as her soft, gentle voice chimed.

"You're nervous." It wasn't a question. She was smiling a slight, crooked smile as she said it, causing my neurons to fire even faster.

"Yeah, I guess I am...a little bit." She giggled quietly as I said this, putting her hand lightly in front of her mouth like she was trying to conceal it from me. "So, what's your-"

"I'm Serah," she said, cutting me off. She giggled again, this time at my surprised expression. This girl never ceased to amaze me. I shifted my legs, and we both continued to stare at the dark bay in front of us. A light breeze blew past us, and I caught the sweetest, most heavenly scent coming off of her. I breathed in deeply, savoring the aroma as she began to speak again.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked me, keeping her gaze forward, thought I could feel her eyeing me out of her peripherals.

"Nothing," I lied quickly. Too quickly. How could I tell her that my thoughts were only of her? Well not only of her...

"Hmm," she said, studying my face, like she knew that I wasn't being entirely truthful. This girl didn't miss anything apparently.

"What were you doing in that alley all by yourself? In the dark nonetheless!" Her curious eyes sought my answer before my mouth could speak it.

"I...I was...umm," my voice cracked. "Well, actually I..." What was the point in lying to her? I wanted to know her and I wanted her to know me, so why start by lying to her. I sucked in a deep breath, preparing for what I was about to say. Her eyes never left mine as she stood motionless next to me, her statuesque figure silhouetted in the moonlight.

"This...is what I was doing," I said as I pulled the bag of powder out of my pocket and placed it on the wooden railing in front of me. She studied it for a moment, her eyes glancing from me to the bag slowly. I could feel the shame burning in my face. I glanced away, afraid to make eye contact with her. Letting out a deep sigh, I was about to try to explain, to say something, but she held up her hand and stopped me. For a moment, I thought that this was it. I'd ruined my chances before I ever had the opportunity. Though I had just met her, my heart sank deep into the pit of my chest. I turned towards her and let my gaze settle on her golden eyes. We stood that way for what seemed like forever, staring at each other, my face full of sadness and regret, hers full of frustration and perplexity. Finally, she broke the silence that had begun to surround us like a thick blanket of nothingness.

"You know that stuff is hazardous to your health," she said in a serious tone. Then surprisingly she started to laugh again, a quiet but cute laugh.

"I know – I want to quit, more than anything. I just..I just need help" It was harder to admit that than I thought. Ever since I'd moved out at the age of seventeen, I'd done everything on my own. Never having needed any outside help before, it was strange hearing the words coming out of my mouth now. It was also surprising that I was spilling my guts to this beautiful stranger. I'd never been one for wearing my heart on my sleeve, and I always kept my feelings to myself. But something about this girl, Serah, urged me to tell all. Tell her everything I was thinking and feeling.

"Would you like my help?" she said, interrupting my reverie. She was staring at me seriously, waiting for my reply. I only thought about my answer for a split-second.

"Yes. Please." That sounded too desperate.

"You might not like it." The corner of her mouth turned up in a half-grin.

"I think I can handle it. I'm ready to be done with it."

"Okay, just don't get mad at me."

"I won't..." Before I had time to finish, her hand flashed down to the where the bag of dope lay on the railing. It was gone in an instant and I turned towards Serah to see her holding it in her hand, between her thumb and index finger. My heart dropped in my chest. Part of me was screaming inside to take it back, take it and get fucked up. Part of me wanted to grab it and run away, find a dark corner and get fucked up, so fucked up I wouldn't even remember my name. I fight with that part of me, because I don't want that anymore. I don't want to be fucked up on that shit anymore. I want to know this girl, know her and be with her and feel her. I want her to be my drug. I want her to be my fix. That part of me doesn't care what she does with the dope, it just wants to be near her. But the screaming in my head is so loud and it's tearing me apart. Take it. Run away. Get fucked up. Kill the loneliness. Kill the emptiness. I am alone and lonely and I need to get fucked up to make it go away. I will still be alone but it will fill me up. Get me high and kill the lonely and the empty. No.

I stare at her, her soft but sharp features highlighted by the silver moonlight. She is beautiful and she is here. With me. I know if she gets rid of the bag, I will go through hell tomorrow and the next day and the next. Who knows how long it will last. I've been through withdrawal before. It's fucking hell. Like dying. I do not want to feel like that again. I do not want to feel like dying. I don't want the cold-sweats, the aches, the pains, the anxiety, the restlessness, the shits, the depression. I don't want any of it and I have to have all of it. It's the only way. If I want her, I know I have to go through fucking hell for a few days. Or I could just take the bag, run away, get fucked up and forget all about it.

"Well, are you ready to quit?" Her voice brings me back to reality. I am silent for a few moments. There is a war raging inside of me and I don't know the answer to her question. No, I'm not ready, I don't want to quit. Yes, get rid of that shit I don't want to be a fucking junkie anymore. She furrows her brow, like she's trying to figure me out, figure out what I'm thinking. She's holding the bag in her hand, dangling it there in front of me. I feel like an absolute, worthless piece of shit right now. I have to get over this. I have to overcome this addiction. It's more than that. I need to get over this selfishness.

I swallow hard, take a deep breath and brace myself for what I am about to do. The end and the beginning all start right now.

"Do it," I say, in a hoarse whisper.

With a quick flick of her wrist, she tossed the bag out into the dark water. It flew surprisingly far and made a little plop sound as it hit the surface. It floated away, farther away from us, carried by some unknown and unseen current. I kept watching and watching it, but remembering what stunning company I was in, I forced myself to turn away.

"How do you feel?" Serah said in a tone that suggested she actually was concerned. I sucked in a deep breath and spoke honestly.

"I feel...torn. Like split in half. Part of me feels relief, like this enormous weight has just been lifted off my shoulders, and part of me feels like shit and is dreading what comes next." She was still staring at me, standing absolutely still, and paying me all of her attention.

"It's gonna' suck...the withdrawal, I mean, but if I get through it, I think I will be fine. I just need to make some new friends here. Some friends that are a positive influence on me."

"Well Conor James, you already have one new friend," she said with a cute smile and wink, "And if you need help, don't be afraid to ask. Everyone needs help sometimes." Her response had caught me off guard. Who was this stranger, Serah? She doesn't even know me, except for the fact that I'm an addict and new in town and she probably noticed my pining for her. Friend. I liked the sound of that. I wanted so badly to add the word girl in front of it, but it was a pleasant start. I couldn't stop looking at her, admiring her model-like qualities. Beautiful and nice and smart, I thought to myself. A goddamn trifecta.

My pocket started to vibrate and I knew it was probably Ben calling me or texting me. He was a good friend for letting me stay with him and fixing up his bike for me to ride, but I couldn't help the flash of anger I felt at him for interrupting this moment.

"Excuse me," I said to Serah, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my cell phone. It was a text message. From what I could make out of Ben's drunk-texting, he was wondering where I was, that he was about to leave and I should call him. I noted that it was already close to two a.m. I shoved the phone back into my pocket without responding, returning my attention to Serah. She looked at me and it seemed like she was curious and frustrated at the same time. I was just about to tell her that the text message was nothing important, but she spoke first.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go." She spoke suddenly, abruptly. The mood changed in an instant. Something was wrong, I just couldn't tell what it was. The look on her face conveyed a pained apology as she turned to walk away. I was suddenly overwhelmed by anxiety and loneliness. I didn't want her to go, not yet.

"Wait," I shouted, trying to extend the moment as long as possible. "When can I see you again?" I didn't ask her if I could see her again, not wanting to give her the chance to say no. She stopped and turned her body back towards me, a full smile on her stunning face.

"I'm sure we will be seeing each other sooner than you think. Take care of yourself Conor." And with that, she turned and strode quickly off into the darkness.