Addiction

So, here is the first of these fiction stories.

 

 

Addiction

                I’m not going to use again. I’m not going to use again. He repeated this in a mantra in his head, over, and over, even saying it aloud at times. He didn’t need the rush buying the drug brought. He didn’t need to feel the impatience with himself as he waited for the effects to set in.

                He definitely didn’t need the side-effects that came when he used. He wasn’t himself when he used. I’m not going to use again. I’m not going to use again. She said if I used again, I’d never see my kids again. I’m not going to be like my father, the deadbeat who was never around. My kids are going to know their father. They’re going to be proud of their father.

                I’ll go buy them each a toy right now, even. Yeah, surely there’s got to be some store in this godforsaken town that’s open.

                He gets up and starts walking in the direction of the nearest store.

                I’ll buy them better toys then she’s ever bought them. I’ll get them the best toys they’ve ever had.

                Hands shoved in the pockets of his thin, threadbare coat, his pace quickens. Snick. Snick. The sound of a lighter stops him dead in his tracks.

                I don’t need it. I don’t need it. He wills himself to keep going, but his curiosity wins out. He looks about his surroundings and searches for the source of the tantalizing noise. His eyes land on a small group of people huddled in the alley, using his drug.

                I don’t need it. I’m not going to use again. I don’t need it. I’m not going to use again.

                His mouth went dry as he watched them pass the drug around.

                I’m not going to use again. He chanted.

                A small voice in the back of his head, urged him closer. Just get a better look, the voice urged. It might not even be the drug. Just check and see and then be on your way.

                He found himself moving closer and closer to the group, to the drug, against his will almost.

                I’m not going to use again. I’m just looking to see what they’re doing. He thought, not even convincing himself. He knew what they were doing. He’d known it the moment he’d seen them, the moment he’d heard the lighter. There was only one drug used in this part of town. The only reason anyone came to this part of town was to use.

                Just a little closer. Just be sure. The voice urged him forward.

                He was close enough now he could almost smell the drug.

                I’m not going to use again. I’m not going to use again.

                A man in a heavy coat without signs of use stood apart from the group.

                “Hey, look who’s back,” The man comments as his eyes glint in recognition.

                He stood shaking as his eyes followed the drug being passed around the circle again.

                “You back for more?” The man in the untarnished coat says more as a statement then a question.

                He tries to take a step back, tries to remember what he had been on his way to do. I was going somewhere wasn’t I? What was I doing?

                His eyes leave the drug briefly and focus on the man in the coat, then flick back to the drug.

                Sensing his hesitation, the dealer makes him a tantalizing offer.

                “How about a taste? Then you can go back to what you were doing.”

                Yeah just a taste he thought. Just a taste and then I won’t use again.

                Pulling his hand out of his pocket, he pulls out the money good Samaritans had given him not long ago and extends his hand to the man in the coat. When he retracts his hand, he has the drug in it.

                Just one taste. He thought to himself.

                He pulls his lighter out of his tattered coat pocket.

                Snick. Snick.