Someone is stealing my drugs.
I know how it sounds. I can already hear the eyes rolling.
You just didn’t realize you took so much!
You’re so high, you misplaced them!
Only - I have a system.
I don’t use drugs to party. I use them to cope with life. My anxiety is so bad and the medicine the doctors prescribed were either too strong or not strong enough. The only thing that has ever worked has been heroin. I pick up a large amount once a week and I weigh it out and only take enough to get me through the day. One hit in the morning, one at lunch, one after work, and one before bed. Every time, the same amount.
I never nod out, it doesn’t make me sleepy, it lets me do my job and interact with people. Without it, I wouldn’t survive. But because too many abuse it, I can’t legally have it. If anyone found out I did this, they would be shocked and disgusted. But, no one even suspects I do. I am a normal person, but only on heroin.
I see my dealer, Ronnie, once a week. It’s always the same day and I am always on time. He always asks me to stay for a while, so he can tell me all about the newest conspiracy theory. How the earth is flat, about the illuminati, or how the sun is fake. He believes the CIA is watching him and plotting some spy stuff on him. I always decline, but he sometimes takes a long time to weight out my bag so he can talk about it, still. There are always other people there. Some are high on meth and picking their faces. Some try to sell me stolen items. Some are just passed out from heroin. They see me in my business suit and assume I have money. I do, but they don’t need to know that. I never bring anymore money than exactly what it costs for my weekly fix.
But, almost two weeks ago, it started.
I had overslept by 3 minutes. That never happens, but it did that morning. So, I was in a rush and already out of sorts. A 3 minute loss might not seem like much, but for me, it was enough to make my anxiety really start to amp up. I waited until I was all dressed and ready for work, then opened the drawer I keep everything in. I pulled out the scale, ready to weigh my perfectly exact amount for my usual morning fix when … there wasn’t enough. I practically pulled the drawer out of dresser and systematically emptied it out. I should’ve had exactly enough for one more day - how did I not have enough for ONE hit?
I must’ve dropped it, I thought. I began to search the floor. But, there was nothing there. I looked absolutely everywhere. I looked until I was ten minutes late. Then thirty minutes late. Then an hour. I had to call in late to work for the first time in my entire life.
If you don’t use heroin every 8 hours, you get sick. Really sick. The worst possible sickness you can imagine. I started to panic even more. I called Ronnie and told him I was coming over on my way to work. He sounded incredibly shocked to hear me. I have never called him before my usual pick-up day before. I called him every Friday for the past seven years.
I walked into his house and he was looking at me weird. He asked if everything was ok. He asked if I was working with the FBI. It was making him paranoid that I had broken my usual schedule. I wasn’t in the mood for him, today. I just asked for more and did my hit there. Something I had never done before. Ronnie looked pale, my behavior was scaring him. I said thank you and left quickly.
After work I made sure I put the rest away and even checked the drawer before bed. I weighed what was in there. I knew exactly how much it was.
It was still there in the morning the next day. And the day after that, and the rest of the week.
I relaxed a little at this point. It was a fluke, an anomaly, a glitch in the matrix - as Ronnie would say.
But on Monday of the next week, I opened the drawer and it was empty.
EMPTY.
It was Thursday when I last saw Ronnie. I bought my usual weekly amount. There’s no possible way it could be gone!
I could feel my heart pounding, not only in my chest, but between my ears, in my face, and in my toes. Someone was messing with me. Someone was in my house!
I frantically checked every room, under the bed, under the couches, every closet, and every nook and cranny. I was alone, as usual. I checked the doors, they were all firmly locked. I wanted to scream.
I sent an email to my job that I was sick and could not come in that day for the first time in my life. I sped to Ronnie’s house and didn’t even bother calling him. I pounded on the door out of anger and I saw Ronnie peek at me from the window. He stared at me for a very long time.
He opened the door, but not enough to let me in.
“Yo, what is WRONG with you, Sis?!” He shouted.
“Nothing!” I yelled.
“Then why are you pounding on my door like the frickin’ cops at 4 AM on a Monday!”
“Are you crazy? It’s not 4 AM! It’s…”
I stopped. I suddenly realized how dark it was outside. I checked my phone. He was right, it was 4:11 AM. I started to sweat.
“Okay, maybe I didn’t realize how early it was when I woke up. I’m sorry.” I said.
“Girl, are you working with the police? If you’re an officer, you HAVE to tell me.”
“Ronnie, a police officer doesn’t have to tell you shit if you ask, that’s just a rumor. But, no, it’s the same old me! I wouldn’t be doing a 7 year long sting operation for this small amount! I’m just…I’m just a little out of it. I’m running out quicker than usual.”
“Yeah, that starts to happen with everyone. Your tolerance starts-“
“No! I mean, no. I’m not doing more than usual. But it’s gone quicker. Could it be evaporating? Is my house too humid or something? And can you finally let me in?”
Ronnie eventually, but still skeptically, let me inside. He told me there was no way over a gram of heroin was evaporating. Even I admit, it sounded crazy. I was feeling crazy. What on earth was going on?
I bought another weeks worth and left. I weighed it again before bed that night.
The next morning, it was all gone, again.
Now, it’s Friday. Ronnie barely allowed me to buy more that Tuesday. He kept saying it was Wednesday, but I know he’s in on it, now. Someone is taking my stuff and wants me to lose my mind. I’ve always been a loner, I don’t have any friends. I don’t even hang out with my co-workers. I don’t know why I was targeted. Maybe they just don’t like someone using drugs responsibly. They just want to control everyone. Now, I feel like Ronnie, with these conspiracy theories.
I haven’t been home in days. I found a new person to buy from and I’ve been staying in a hotel. I told my job I had a death in the family and would be out of work for a while. They didn’t ask questions, surprisingly.
The new person was a kid I met just walking around downtown. He said he could get me anything. Literally anything. But, I just wanted my usual. He whistles when he’s at my hotel door so I know it’s him. He was just here an hour ago.
But I am hearing his whistle at my door.
I look out the peephole and there’s a girl there.
“I don’t want maid service!” I shout.
“What?” She says.
“It’s me. I have your … order.”
“I didn’t order anything!” I say.
“You just called! Let me in, I came all this way!”
I open the door. The kid walks in, the usual boy that’s been coming with my order.
“Whaat?” I say, confused.
“How did you do that?” I demand.
“How did I do what?” He asks.
“That! What you just did! Make yourself look and sound like a girl!”
“Are you tripping, lady?” He asks.
Suddenly, I realize. Suddenly, I know exactly what’s going on. It’s all so clear.
“You’re in on it, too! Aren’t you?!”
“In on what? Lady, what are you on about?!”
“Why are you here?!” I pat my pocket. When I left my house, I bought a knife, for protection. I slink my hand in and wrap my fingers around the base. No one is going to ruin my life! I was doing everything right! Why is this happening? I had a good job! I was functioning! I didn’t have to hide in my home anymore! Why was that so wrong? It was the only thing that worked!
“Because you just called! You said you needed more!”
“Liar!” I shouted and pulled out the knife.
His eyes went wide. He was probably a lot stronger than me, he looked about 19 or 20, so I had to make this count. He could easily take me down. He began to back away from me, but I knew he was just waiting for me to let my guard down. He probably had back-up outside. I knew I wasn’t crazy, why else would he be so scared that I figured it out? I wanted to hear him say it! The truth!
“Tell me why you’re doing this! The truth!”
“Why I’m doing what? Oh my God, Lady, please! Put the knife down!” He looked like he was about to cry.
“That’s not going to work on me!”
“Please! I have a family! I’m just poor, I only run drugs to make extra money! I don’t even do them! Lady, please, we can talk this out. Here, just take the drugs! Take them!”
He reached his hand into his pocket, probably going for his knife! Or possibly gun! I had to act now!
In the split second he glanced down at his pocket to pull out a weapon, I acted. I stabbed him right in the neck, right in the jugular vein. His was very prominent, it was thick and stuck out, wasn’t too hard to get to. He looked at me and then started laughing! He was laughing at me!
“No!” I shouted, and covered my eyes. I couldn’t look at his distorted face anymore, laughing at me. Suddenly, the laughter stopped. I heard a THUD! as he hit the floor. I peeked out from between my fingers and saw him, on the floor, no longer laughing. His mouth was open, his eyes were open, and there was a lot of blood. I calmed down for a moment. But, there could be more coming. I looked out the window and was confused.
I thought I had rented a room in a five star hotel. But I was looking out the window into the parking lot of a very sleazy motel. Did they move me while I was sleeping? How did they do this? I know I was just in a nice hotel before he arrived!
My phone suddenly started going off and it caused me to jump in the air. I was still very anxious, but calmer than I’d felt in days. The walls suddenly looked a little less fuzzy. Wait, why had the walls looked so weird? Everything was so much sharper suddenly, so much more real. The body on the ground was suddenly very real.
“Oh my God, what did I just do?!”
My phone went off again and again. Someone was sending me texts over and over. I backed away from the body, I couldn’t look at it anymore. I felt like I had just been on a very dizzying ride and was finally back on the ground. What was going on?
My phone went off again and I finally grabbed it, just to make it stop. I glanced at the screen and froze. Oh my God…
Texts from Ronnie lit up my screen.
They read:
“I accidentally put my last big order of heroin in a bag that was full of meth”
“The last few times you got from me, the dope was completely mixed with meth”
“You are probably tripping out because of the meth! No one is out to get you!”
“Just calm down and relax. It’ll probably be wearing off soon. You don’t want to get so paranoid and do something you’ll regret.”