Summary: Danielle's best friend in the whole world, Lexi, is dead. And not just an unfortunate accident sort of dead. The overdosed sort of dead. The kind of dead that has no redemption. Lexi is dead and everyone thinks Dani is next. They think this because Dani is prone to the same sort of rampant drug use that Lexi fell victim to. In a desperate attempt to save Dani from the same fate as Lexi, she is sent to a rehabilitation center.
Dani's only outside allies, Darren and Andy are sorely lacking in their support. Darren, her boyfriend of nearly five years, thinks it's a joke for her to be there. And Andy, Lexi's drug dealing boyfriend and Dani's best friend, is a total wreck.
Danielle thinks that she can cruise through her stint in rehab the same way she did in her normal life. But with all eyes on her, she can't exactly let go of the idea that maybe... there is something really wrong with her.
Author's Note: This is going to be an episodic story. Meaning that there will be more posts after this one. I'm not sure how long it's going to be; maybe not very... I'm really not sure.
Warning: This story contains vulgar language and themes.
Soundtrack: The title of this story comes from the Elliott Smith song Baby Britain and I feel like his style of music goes really well with the theme. And not just because he was a suicidal drug addict. Also, there's a couple other songs that I like.
Elliott Smith - Pitseleh
Elliott Smith - Baby Britain
Tokyo Police Club - Listen to the Math
As Cities Burn - Empire
Part 2
“I see you met Mr. Turner.”
“What?”
“The boy from your journal. His name is Eric Turner.”
“Yeah, okay, and?”
“I thought I should let you know. Seeing as you didn’t even ask his name.”
“He was being a dick.”
“He’s got his problems.”
“Yeah, like talking out his ass.”
“He’s really not so bad.”
“Yeah, alright.”
“I think that you should give some people a chance around here. You can’t stay a recluse forever.”
“So you agree with him? You think I act better than everyone.”
“I didn’t say that, Danielle.”
“Dani.”
“I apologize.”
“What’s the Eric dude’s deal anyway?”
“His deal?”
“Like why is here?”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“Because he’s a tool.”
“I think that he was just trying to make conversation with you.”
“Well he goes about it the wrong way. Normally you don’t insult someone you’ve never met.”
“I think you’ve probably met. He’s in the same group as you.”
“I haven’t noticed.”
“Maybe you should try a little harder to participate.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not doing you any good to be a silent observer. I don’t think it’s appropriate to say that being here is a vacation. You should be learning while you’re here at the Center.”
“And what should I be learning?”
“Dani, you’re here for a reason. But I’m not sure if you’ve grasped it exactly.”
“I’m here because everyone seems to think that I’m ADDICTED to drugs. Which is outrageous. I honestly believe that this is some sort of guilt thing for not being able to save Lexi. Like… if they can get me… then it would be okay that no one noticed she was a fucking burn out. It’s like I’m the do-over. And that’s ridiculous because Lexi and I are nothing alike in that regard. Yes, I drink a lot but I’m young! Sure, I’ve done some drugs but only in moderation. I wish everyone could stop feeling guilty about Lexi being dead. I wish that I could just grieve like a normal fucking person.”
“How does a normal person grieve?”
“I don’t know. Going to candle light vigils or something. Looking at old pictures. I know for damn sure that they don’t go to rehab.”
“I think that everyone has their own way of dealing with death.”
“But this isn’t my way. This is my parents’ way.”
“Dani, we’ve talked about this. You don’t have to be here.”
“And I’ve told you that I really do have to be here or else I’d have no home.”
“You’re a big girl. You could live on your own. Or you could live with Darren.”
“Ha. Yeah. Like I’d want to live with Andy and Darren.”
“Why not? You say that they’re your best friends.”
“Their dad is insane.”
“I think you’ve mentioned that… something about heroin.”
“Yeah, he’s got a needle permanently attached to his arm. The fucker would take an IV of it if he could. What a fucking moron.”
“How long has that been going on?”
“As long as we can remember, the dude’s been doing drugs.”
“And is that why Andy and Darren do drugs, deal drugs…”
“Darren doesn’t deal.”
“But Andy does.”
“Yeah.”
“So is that because of their father?”
“It’s the only thing they know. Their mother skipped town like years ago.”
“So what’s your excuse for drug use?”
“Boredom.”
“Do you think you could find other things to do besides using?”
“I do other things.”
“Like?”
“I’ve worked at Giant Eagle since I was sixteen.”
“Well besides a job… like a hobby.”
“I paint. I write.”
“You do?”
“I used to.”
“Why’d you stop?”
“I didn’t have time.”
“Because of work?”
“Yeah… and when I wasn’t at work, I was with…”
“Lexi, Andy and Darren?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you have other friends besides them?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Friends you consider as good as they’ve been?”
“Well, no.”
“So you don’t have any hobbies or friends outside of your clique?”
“The way you say it makes it sound like a bad thing.”
I’m fucked. Fucked. Completely obliterated. I’m a moron. A total asshole. I don’t know what I was thinking. What I was doing. WHAT HE WAS THINKING.
I thought Darren coming to visit me was a good thing. I thought it would boost my mood. I thought it would be good for me to see a familiar face other than my fucking jackass parents. I had it in my head that our reunion would be sweet, genuine. What was I thinking? I wasn’t ready for that.
What was he thinking?
What was I thinking?
How do I put this in writing correctly? (Besides, you already know the story, Doc.)
Fine. Here it is. To get it out. To tell my side of what happened. THE TRUTH. I swear I’m not lying.
The Doc said that seeing a friend might help my morale. I called Darren and Andy’s house because I don’t have their cell numbers memorized. Only their house number from when I was a little kid and that’s all we had. I called and Darren picked up. I had decided that whoever picked up the phone, that was who I was asking to come. I love Darren but in a strange way I wanted to see Andy too. He was level headed. He could help me reason through my whole fucking debacle. But Darren picked up the phone. He almost flipped when he heard my voice. He said he was coming immediately to rescue me. But I said he couldn’t really take me away from here. That it’s not how it works. I asked if he could come visit instead. And he said of course. That he knew what would cheer me up.
When he got here, I could tell he was blazed. And shamelessly, I admit… my first thought was “why can’t I be?” And my second was thought was outrage. How could he be so rude? How could he taunt me like that? But when I put my arms around him, I felt a little better. A little reassured.
We talked about Andy. Darren said that no one had seen him in a week. Since the funeral. His car is gone and he’s not answering his cell phone. That worries me. But I haven’t had time to think about it.
Darren’s words were so lethargic because of the pot. I wished he had taken speed before instead. Or something. So that I could just hear his voice over and over again.
When visitation was over, he went to give me a kiss and a hug. At the time he whispered into my ear. “To cheer you up.” At this, he slipped a hand quickly into the waist band of my pajama pants and tucked a baggy there. I was confused until I slid into my room and looked what it was.
And there in that bag were six gorgeous totem poles of Xanax. There. Just staring at me. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Each contained 2mg of bliss. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
But I couldn’t take them.
I just couldn’t.
For two whole days, I just stared at them. Longing to take them. But strangely unable to.
Then I did something that I almost regret.
I handed them over to the Doc.
Crying. I handed them over.
I wasn’t crying because I felt I’d done something wrong by having them. But because I felt it was wrong for me to give them to her. I felt as though I was giving up my life when I laid them on her desk.
And now, as I patiently wait for my session with the Doc. I want them back. I wish I’d taken them all and never thought twice about it.
But I couldn’t take them.
I’m a coward.
Or whatever.
no no no no no
It’s wrong to want them. I don’t understand my head.
I don’t get why I could give them up but still want them so bad.
I’m waiting for my session with the Doc… I’m waiting to hear whether I’ll be thrown out of the Center. Which is a possibility now. They could ask me to leave. The Doc told me this. She said that what I’d done was serious and I needed to go immediately to my room and stay there.
The white walls make me think too much.
I’m thinking about Darren. And why he showed up stoned… How could he tell me he loved me and then do something so dumb?
I wish I could think about Andy. But I don’t have the energy. I hope he’s okay. But that’s as far as I can get in my thoughts about him.
Because my head brings me back to Darren and the Xanax. The magnificent six pills that could have been mine. That I didn’t want to be mine.
I didn’t want them.
I don’t want them.
I do want them.
I don’t know.
No comments:
Post a Comment