Fuuuuuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Seriously man, fuck me. I’m typing this out to you guys so I can keep my mind straight, but also to document what happened in case nobody hears from me. Through the shaking hands and the racing thoughts this seems to be the only thing keeping everything coherent. If this message ends upruptly just know that I’m actually waiting for Devo to come through with my package.
*ETA: 5 minutes and 45 seconds (according to my last calculation considering Devo’s driving 17 blocks from East Side)*.
Now if you’re reading this just know things are getting better. It’s been about 124 hours since the “incident”. Not about, exactly 123 hours and 49 minutes and 32 seconds. I’ll explain why I know that later. Just know that I got fucked over in my last reup.
I went to my usual guy, Chris, to pick up some Addy. Chris has been my buddy forever, like I’ve known him as long as I’ve been able to walk. As we grew up he later became my plug and he’s been hooking me up for maybe 10 years now (9 years, 3 months, and 14 days) but the other day he told me about something that would change my life forever.
“SCWheatley, You hear about this new shit that’s hit the market? It’s called punicalemine (‘puke’ is what they’re calling it) and it’s supposed to be the hottest shit ever. You know the stuff I got you last week? This is like if that and crack had a baby and that baby ate a dog. With rabies.”
“Serious?” I remembered he was always quick to get me to try something I didn’t need so I didn’t play along. “That’s cool bro but I’m good with the usual.”
He passed it off and he got me my order and he was off. But later that afternoon when I took the usual light-blue pill something was off. My mouth tasted like a mix of aluminum and acidity and my fingertips had a weird red tinge to them.
*ETA: 4 minutes and 23 seconds until Devo arrives with the package.*
So I went to the mirror to check myself out but by then it was too late. Lights began flashing and my brain started to feel like it was doing backflips in my skull. Whatever this was it was nothing like I’ve ever experienced. The shit was dirty. I immediately thought of all the things I would do to Chris when I found him, but then something amazing happened.
I saw a *light*, but not just any light. It was as if all the good things in the world manifested into this canvas of white. Even with everything I know now I still can’t describe it. It washed over me and every fiber of my being was at peace. And then I threw up. I mean, bad. There were chunks flying across the room which spread all over the rug my dad bought me for $126.54 back in 2006.
I was passed out for exactly 4 hours and 27 minutes according to the puke-covered cat-shaped clock my mom gave me on the first day of 6th grade. I know all of these details because of two things: Since waking up I can remember everything and I truly mean *everything*. Second, I also haven’t been able to sleep since and all I can do is think and remember. That was 129 hours ago and I’ve been going crazy as my mind fires with every millisecond that passes.
*ETA: 3 minutes and 12 seconds. Better get ready, Devo will be here soon.*
At first I realized I could remember everything from recent events, but then the more I focused into the past the more I realized I can remember every second of every moment, like ever. The time I crapped myself when Mr. Getter wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom during Reading Hour. When Chris got me lost in the woods to impress Andrea Carranza and the other 7th graders during middle school camp. When I asked Jennifer Haily to be my girlfriend in 3rd grade and she responded with the exact words: “Why would I ever date a ugly boy?” Everything repeats as I try to make sense of the present and I can’t grasp anything unless I write it down.
Of course I freaked out and I immediately called Chris, but no answer. Called 5 times over 4.23 minutes and still nothing. I remembered his home phone number back when he told me by the bleachers in 4th grade. Called it and of course, no one there knew of a Chris. I even called the number I remembered as “Mamma \*kiss emoji\* he had saved on his phone back in high school but there was no answer and I’m sure it wasn’t his actual mom. My natural reaction was to walk the 3.73 miles to his apartment downtown so I laced up my shoes and swayed sloppily out the front door as my brain fired faster than my feet.
When I reached Chris’ apartment I banged on his door but no answer. I looked for a key under the mat like how his parents would hide spares, but no luck. This door had one of those keypad things anyway. I remembered his mom programmed everything with her own birthday so I dialed the six digits. Nothing. I thought back to every passcode and date of importance and nothing seemed to activate. Then I remembered in Mrs. Peterson’s 5th grade class when he and I would just dick around on our calculators in the back of class. 80085. Yep, that did it.
When I got in and saw Chris wasn’t home I headed straight to his safe and as you can guess the combination was the same as the front door. Inside the safe was what I made out to be a couple boats of X, a few rolled joints, a pound of cannabis, and Smith & Wesson .38. After rummaging through some loose papers I found it, a huge stack of cash.
I hadn’t fully figured out a plan by then, but I knew whatever my next move was this cash was going to see it through. Besides, it’s the least Chris could do for lacing my shit and not answering my calls.
After I stuffed the last few stacks into my bag I heard the keypad at the door and I immediately grabbed the gun and pointed it at the door.
“Yeah, I got th- Yo. What the fuck?” I motioned for Chris to step all the way in and some girl in thigh-high boots followed him inside. She wasn’t the usual chick from 6th Street and McGrady with the bright pink hair and fake diamond earrings. “Bro,” Christ spat out. “What are you doing with my shit?”
“I-I’ve been te-trying to reach y-you”. The effects of the drugs seemed to be getting worse by the hour. With my stammering I tensed the gun up towards Chris. It made him nervous.
“Hey, Hey man. You know me,” Chris said between slight chuckles. “Bruh let’s talk this out. Just calm down and give me the gun.”
I knew Chris and I knew what he did to the last guy that broke into his apartment. It didn’t end well for that guy. But looking at his face I could tell Chris really was calm and he wanted to hear me out.
“W-what did you do to m-me?”
“Hey man, I tried reaching you. There was a bad batch man. People are tweaking and shit, happening all over the city. I was trying to get to you.”
“H-How? How c-could you g-give me dirty pills-s?”
“Bitch, you think I run a CVS?” Chris’ face twisted as he started to get angrier by the second. “Think the guys that make this stuff spend money on test tubes and rubber gloves and shit? This ain’t Dexter’s Lab bro, shit gets dirty.”
At this point the girl next to him was acting strange. I pointed the gun towards her chest as Chris slowly put his arm in front.
“Look bruh, hey hey. She has nothing to do with this. Hey man, this is between you and me. She’s innocent.”
She was hardly innocent. In the past 3 years since I got my apartment on West Side I’ve crossed paths with her exactly 7 times. And every time she was with dudes that were nothing like Chris. She was with real thugs. She’s hung with dudes from the Kr8zies and the 13th St Cabrones who I can assume (and know) are responsible for at least 37% of the homicides this side of the river.
“K-keep her calm, C-Chris.” My frustrations were gripping me entirely as I fought to spit the words out.
“Hey, hey baby. Listen to my buddy, don’t worry baby. I’ll get us out of this. I’ve known this guy since Kindergarten. He just wants to talk, he’s not gonna hurt us.”
She looked at me and she looked at Chris then she clutched her purse closer to her side. What she didn’t know was that I knew there was a .22 inside that bag. When I walked by her on the bus 17.3 months ago my peripheral caught the sight of the bright black muzzle. I watched with still eyes and my hands shook holding Chris’ gun. Her hand lept for the bag and I didn’t hesitate. I shot her in between the eyes and she immediately flopped down.
“Yo, What the f-“
Now, I knew how these things run out. I knew I couldn’t have any screams or signs of struggle as I would gain a extra few seconds and have the neighbors second guess the shots before opening their doors. I knew Chris always carried his brother’s Ruger in his lower back. I had less than 10 seconds to get out before the nosy neighbors would come out and compromise my clean record. I had to do it. I had to. I don’t like remembering it and I won’t type out the details, but to whoever’s reading this just know I didn’t want to. I had to.
I was smart to wipe everything before Chris showed up and I swiped his phone before hopping out the back window. I climbed down into the dark bushes along his building and crept out unseen.
*ETA: 1 minute and 15 seconds until Devo’s package arrives. I glance outside the window to make sure I didn’t miscalculate the streetlight’s 22.1 second delay after rush hour. Nope, right on schedule.*
Over the last 123 hours I’ve been researching all I could on Chris’ phone and I learned all the necessary codewords to get what I need. I remembered there was a guy Chris said that could get you anything you needed for the right price. Chris met him on a run in San Diego and I was able to put the information together long before I saw that Chris had him saved as “Devo AKA ‘Bossman’”.
I stacked up all the cash I had along with Chris’ stash and now I’m waiting on this guy to get here.
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I truly think I am getting better since the incident. All these hours that pass I find myself thinking not just about my life but also those around me. The lives I’ve touched. And I think I found something. I’ve come to realize I could truly change the world. And with that I’ve found a cure. The cure to everything in this drug-driven fascist-loving capitalistic hellhole called Earth. Just gonna get this last pickup then head to the dropoff to watch this whole thing blowover. Keep an eye out for the news tonight. You might see something strange. Well I better wrap up now. Devo should be down the hallway now. Wait, hold on. My dad’s calling.