A lot of people think weed is a gateway into the darker world of drugs. For 17 year old me, the gateway was depression, and the weed helped. Well, at first anyway.
By my senior year of high school I was couch surfing, and the anxious lifestyle resulted in the unfortunate fact that weed just wasn’t cutting it anymore. After all, I had to relax somehow. I missed the perfect high; I was chasing more. So I turned to alcohol. Not unexpectedly, I was no longer couch surfing 3 months later. I was on the streets.
3 years later, I had seen the inside of a cell for 6 months and I probably was a bit worse for the wear. Pills had come next, along with the sipping of that sweet purple stuff. I was lucky I didn’t kill the guy I hit driving off 8 Xanax.
My parents called sometimes. So did my big sister Annie. She got married recently; she called me while I was locked up. She cried talking about how she used to take me skating. She missed that little boy. So did I. I hung up.
I answered my dad once. I couldn’t answer his plea to come home and get help. I didn’t want to. The heroin was the only home for me. Ha.
I don’t know how many months later, but another night of being dope sick was driving me even closer to suicide. I didn’t even feel happy while high anymore. I was going to do it, in fact. The night I was on the rooftop of my 15 story shit ass apartment building was the night I met the man.
He appeared in an instance, but it felt like he was there long before me. He handed me a bright orange orb, swirling violently inside a clear slick coating the size of a pebble. He spoke to me without words, offering me this drug to end all the misery. The condition was well understood however; this would end my life by taking all that was left of it. Like I cared. At least I’d go out happy.
And so I took it and…
Bliss. It was 17 year me and that joint again. It was enough. That made me sad. Maybe I wanted to live after all. Oh well. But then, I woke up. Dizzy, my eyes adjusted to an unfamiliar room. On the nightstand, I saw a picture of Annie. I gasped, and jerked up which led my sight to the horrific vision across from Annie’s bed. Her headless corpse was discarded next to the man from the roof, who’s gleeful mouth gripped Annie’s disfigured head between violently stained teeth. I was too shocked to move as he moved towards me. I braced for a violent strike as he faced me, but instead his hand extended a swirling orange orb.
I thought of my parents and their calls. Then, I grabbed the orb. High school me and my joint.