I pushed aside some crap and found the bag that seemed to have less Oxy in it than I remembered. I took out two pills and made quick work of crushing them up.
“Are you fucking kidding me Alex, you’re a goddamn druggie now? I don’t need some crackhead…” Devin shook his head as he re-thought the words that were coming out of his mouth, “Look, why don’t we just go out, get some air. You look like the living dead.”
My hands stopped their motion, I turned my head to look at someone who at best I thought to be a good associate, who the fuck did he think he was to question what the fuck I was doing.
“Dead? No I ain’t fucking dead. Larry is dead! Mick is dead! Wire is dead! Laura…” My voice cracked at the sound of her name on this fucked up list, “Laura is dead. I’m not. I’m still in this shit hole living a useless fucking life. So don’t you tell me what the hell I need to do or how I should live my fucking life. You can get the hell out!” I yelled letting all my anger and frustration flow straight through me.
“Prez...look.”
I picked up one of the many empty liquor bottles, broke it on the table and charged him, I had him by his neck before he could even think to move. The jagged edge of the heavy bottle dangerously close to the pumping artery in his neck. “Call me Prez again. Say it one more motherfucking time and I swear on my life I will bleed you dry right the fuck here.”
“You got it man, you got it, just let me go.” Devin looked me straight in the eyes, confusion and hurt evident in his.
I let him go and dropped the bottle by his side. I felt something drop off my chin and when I lifted my hand to see what it was I could feel that my face was wet. I was crying. Like a fucking pussy. Ever since Laura had been killed it happened from time to time, I would just randomly start crying, it could be anything that triggered it but mostly it was her. A memory of her, or maybe I heard a song she’d liked, it didn’t matter. It seemed like anything had the ability to have me blubbering like a little girl.
Devin shook his head, looked around my space once again and turned to walk out. He turned slightly and spoke over his shoulder. “Alex, you’re three months behind on rent. I’m going to need you to pay up.”
Three months? How the fuck? I just gave him rent the other day. At least it felt like the other day. I don’t even know how long I have lived here. I have never felt so fucking lost in my life.
“Yeah, I’ll go pick up some cash and pay you tonight.”
He shook his head again and left without another word.
I looked down at the lines of Oxy that were waiting for me, and before I could take a step towards the table my stomach gurgled loudly. I doubled over and looked up towards the half kitchen to see how many packs of noodles I had left. It was empty. I don’t remember the last time I actually ate or drank anything.
I had nothing in my small apartment besides Oxy’s and store brand whiskey, and I had just finished the last of the whiskey.
I let out a deep sigh and looked around for my shoes, I was going to have to go outside. Fucking great.
Chapter 2
I don’t know how long it took me to get dressed but by the time I made my way downstairs, the bar was already packed with folks having fun.
Fucking bastards.
I looked over to Devin and waited until we locked eyes, I nodded at him once when he finally looked in my direction. I hoped he didn’t take my threat against his life too hard but if he did, fuck him too. He shouldn’t have had his damn nose in my business.
I stepped out, and I was met by darkness, I don’t remember the last time I saw the sun but part of me missed the warmth on my back. The wind against my face as I pushed my bitch….
“No!” I shook my head to get those thoughts out. I didn’t deserve the freedom that my bike gave me. I didn’t deserve the happiness. I didn’t deserve life.
I stuffed my hands into my pockets and went straight to the first place on my list of errands. The liquor store. I walked to the back of the store, straight to the cheapest, nastiest shit I could find. Who knows, maybe one of these bottles would be enough to destroy my liver. Maybe the bottle in my hand would be enough to take away all the pain.
I brought six bottles up to the counter and the clerk rang them up.
“Seventy three ninety five,” the man said not even bothering to look up at me.
I put my hand in my pocket.
Shit.
I had nothing in my pockets but lint. I had money, but not on me. I looked at the bottles in the bag, then back up to the clerk. “Look, I have money, just not on me. I will bring it back to you.”
The man had the nerve to laugh and tried to pull the bag away, “Are you out of your mind dude? You bring the money and you can have your drink. No money, no booze.”
I put my hand on the bag, “I need this.” I tried to keep the desperation out of my voice, but I had already been a few hours without a drink and I was in pain. There was no way that I was going to walk out of this store without the alcohol.
“I need money.” He said tugging at the
