"Living is sighing,
Dying ain't flyin' so high.
Baby and I are lying here
Watching the day go by."

8. At My Window

I had fucked up big this time.

I'd gone back to my mother's home after my wild night and tried to sleep through the comedown off the ecstasy. I felt horrible - it was physically painful and I was shaky, my skin crawling as I lie there. I couldn't stand it.

My stomach was rolling but I had to get up. As soon as my feet hit the floor and my body straightened up, I had to force the window of my old bedroom up and vomit on the hedge outside. Just like old times.

It was a little after two in the morning when I headed out through the back door in hopes of not waking my mother. I walked quickly to the closest bar and went into the bathroom where I pulled out the substance I'd brought with me. Off white and slightly chunky, I didn't give it a second thought; I was certain it was cocaine. Then I whiffed a line up my nose and realized it was a speedball, coke and heroin.

So fucking stupid. SO, SO fucking stupid.

The hit was almost instantaneous - of course, the burning in my nose was immediate, and then came the KAPOW moment where it just kicked my ass.

I left the bathroom a shaking mess. The faces around me had that moment of looking curiously and then wondering what the fuck was wrong with me. I got to the bar and took one of few empty seats between two bigger guys watching the football game on the television set above.

"Hey, Liz!" the bartender, Ronnie, waved at me as I slumped in my chair.

"Hey."

"Want a beer?"

I nodded my head. "Dealer's choice." I needed something to help the way I was feeling, which was just... wrong. He set a glass in front of me and I chugged it down, but it did nothing to help. My brain felt slow and mushy and it was like I couldn't hear what was happening up there, just bits and pieces.

I walked outside and smoked on the sidewalk just outside of the fenced area with tables and chairs. Those were all filled up with frat-looking guys. I had to lean against a dogwood to keep my balance as the world got more and more tilted feeling. I broke out in a prickly sweat that made my skin feel even colder than the night air.

I squatted down and puked again, but this time it didn't feel better. I was still holding onto the tree for dear life as wave after wave of pins and needles crashed over me violently. My heart was pounding but my breathing slowed.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I felt my head hit the tree as I slumped against it, unable to hold my own weight up any longer.

Everything went gray... then black. And then in an instant, I knew I was dead. I knew I was, but I had never felt so ALIVE.

My consciousness was flooded with sharp, bright memories. Everything that made me who I was, everything that was present within me. Sad images of a baby being neglected by an annoyed father and an overtired mother. Traumatic images of a very young girl, asleep until her pants are being yanked down, a mouth on her body that made her disgusted with herself. A preteen feeling lost and alone, in pain. A teenager being blindly led by anger. A young woman being beaten bloody by the one person she loved. A woman whose baby died inside of her.

And then there were the beautiful things; smiling with Ana Belle, seeing Seth in the sunshine. Playing guitar along with the rolling waves of the ocean, singing my heart out to the world. Spinning fans of fire, dancing with Seth in the rain.

I felt content. I was dead now, but I had lived. I had tried my best to take every ugly thing the world had thrown at me and turn it into something beautiful through art, through music. I had no reservations, no worries as I slipped away. I wanted nothingness to surround me.

It wasn't nothing; it was fire in my veins. Trembling and gasping as the tide swung me in the opposite direction of the soft float-away I'd been riding. An infinite gap closed and I coughed, flung back to life in a manner so violent I didn't even want the words to describe it.

I was ripping, clawing the various wires away. They were yelling, fighting me back down. I was screaming and pleading; why would they do this to me? I needed the darkness. This was too loud, too hard. I put my hands to my ears and screamed until I went under once again.

I woke up and there was so much pain. My body felt as if I'd been hit by a truck, though there were no visible injuries.

A nurse came in to look me over. "Almost lost you, sweetheart. Had to pump you full of Narcan and Ativan to get that heart started and even again."

"I wish you hadn't," I whispered. "How long was I gone?"

"Just a couple of minutes."

I tried to stand up but it hurt so bad.

The nurse eased me back into a laying position. "You need to stay here. You have to talk to Dr. Li."

"No, thanks." No more doctors... Just no more.

"Sorry," she said. "Protocol."

My phone started to ring and the nurse was nice enough to bring my bag to me. I should have ignored Ana, but I was suddenly heartbroken at the prospect of not hearing her voice. I just couldn't tell her what had happened... I didn't want anyone to know. I knew it was possible everyone would find out soon regardless, because even in my little sleepy town, a story was a story. I hoped it didn't come to that.

I didn't stay on the phone with her for long; I couldn't stand to. I wanted more than anything right now to be near her and Seth and I was stuck alone in this fucking hospital bed. I drifted to sleep once more, angry and craving.

Dr. Li came after awhile. He was short and thin and wore large glasses on his strangely boyish face. "Hello, Ms. Collins," he greeted.

I just watched him. I had zero desire to be psycho-analyzed.

"Not up to talking just yet? I could come back..."

I sat up, grinding my teeth through the aches and started pulling clothes from my bag.

He sighed. "You know, I've read some about you since last night." He opened his briefcase and pulled out a few tabloid magazines that had picked up on me in LA and New York. "You're a very interesting case."

"Person," I corrected. "I'm not a case, I'm a human being."

"My mistake," he said as he wrote something. "I'm assuming there's no chance of you going to a rehab, even though you're one of my only patients that can actually afford a decent one." He ripped a page from his prescription pad and set it on my bedside table. "So here's some antidepressants. They'd probably work much better if you weren't on other drugs." He paused at the doorway and looked at me. "You're in the news today."

I squeezed my eyes shut, rolled over, and screamed into my pillow. I wasn't ready for this. I didn't want to face the world and all of its cruelties... But this was being alive.

I got dressed and walked out of the hospital without a word. I went next door to a Comac store and bought cigarettes after perusing the magazines; that doctor had been a dirty ass liar. I was off the radar now for magazines that weren't metal based.

I got the bathroom key from the clerk and hid in there for awhile. My phone was almost dead, but I had enough juice to call for a cab. I searched my name online with the remaining two percent and nothing I hadn't already seen popped up. My secret was safe for now.

It was illegal to smoke in here but it was either that or stand in the freezing cold. I stared at the trash, wanting to throw my phone in before I peaced out but that wasn't a good idea. I tossed my cigarette butt into the toilet, splashed some water on my face and took a good hard look at my reflection.

I decided right then that this hadn't happened. No one knew and no one would. I shoved it down. Put on my mask. Left the tiny bathroom and chilled in a cab, then boarded my plane.

This whole experience was to be buried deep inside where it belonged, left to fester and rot my insides.