You Don't Really Have to Breathe

A needle and a line make everything fine. Drug addiction wasn't my written out plan, I don't even think I'm addicted yet, ha. But Hell is a dirty place and cleaning up my problems isn't so easy. At first I never approved, drugs were for the weak…the unwilling. But once you try it, you see there is no big deal at all. A Numb throat, body moving, minds O.K. You can say drugs are bad for you…you can even say they were the ending of me, but all in all it is my friend.
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You walk the halls, do the homework, sit forward and pay attention. We are ultimately all the same in this fucked up world of ours and we’re left here to rot in it. The insight I have on values may seem a little messed up and my idea of living is certainly not yours. You see, fellow classmates in high school seem to think they’re individuals, some sort of prodigy left to rot in the hellhole of life. But all in all we all fall into the same pile of shit. No wonder all my classmates are assholes. In an ultimate world I don’t seem to fit. Girls walk the halls in they’re top branded clothes and all I see are branded cattle left out in a field to munch on grass all day (but of course then to puke it back up in the girls bathroom). Ultimate everything. Ultimate cars, computers, phones, sports, bodies. And not one person can tell me where the fuck it will all crash and burn.
Not only do drugs seem to be an outlet but an opportunity to become my societies “ultimate” fuck up. Weed, coke, pills and I finally realize a high is a high. Why be sitting in a field with a bunch of cows when you can fly. Why everything in the end. Too often I wonder where I’m going, even literally. Am I going to school today, to work? Should I skip this class or that one? Kids realize I am not the same student from middle school let alone freshman year. I am a well-developed senior with well-developed thoughts and I plan on being the ultimate asshole my last year of school.
So… more about me I guess? I’ve got an abnormal attitude that is connected with my own diagnosis of cant-shut-the-fuck-up-jackass syndrome. I’m pretty sure I am not the only one. Or maybe I am, considering society wants us to be our own individuals, which is cool and all, but I can’t begin to comprehend how much people share the same feelings and thoughts. I am quite unassertive with a little mix of sarcasm. No, make that a whole can of sarcasm. I disappoint the people I love to see their reactions and I make people mad because watching them hurt is more fun than knowing they’re happy.
“What are you talking about, individual? Get over the fact that you’re a piece of nothing buried under a huge pile of nothing.”

I sit in class, usually with my head on my desk and I dream. Not normal dreams, but I dream of big white lines trailing to the nurse's office. My nose sniffs away and blood flows from my nostril. The nurse hands me a tissue to go with her disapproving smile and sends me to class. Usually I wake up after that but today I drift farther off into oblivion. My mind sees the familiar stairs and I trudge down the steps with a heavy heart in tow. Passing kids in the hallway is like garbage day; everyone is out waiting to be picked up and stinking of pure teenage torment. Why do they all have to be so independent?
I get to the art room, but my head snaps up when my teacher begins to call me into consciousness. ", Have your homework today?" God, haven't they realized yet? I manage an," Ugh," but the teacher doesn't show much compassion and leans against my desk to give me a heads up on my report card. So easily I cannot contain myself.
“ I don’t fucking care. If I did, I would have done something about it a long time ago.” Though in a sleepy voice the words must have stung pretty hard. They seemed to drag out for days as I anticipated some sort of face to emerge from my teacher. I sure got plenty of faces from the students around me but I didn’t care about them, I cared about the plastic bag in my locker.
“ Excuse me, go to the office,” she snapped. I laughed as I walked out of the room. I am the freak. They think that I am the freak. No slips no looks and definitely no teachers to scold me…sure I’ll take the office. Hey, the office isn’t so bad at least not when you have a pounding headache and all you need is some sleep. What the office staff would not realize is that I would rather throw up blood than to make them think that they will change me or have any effect on the person I am to become. It’s purely me. And since no one enjoys my presence, I might as well make the best of it. I tapped my fingers repeatedly on the uncomfortable wooden chairs and the sound cascades off the wall back to me. I’m sure the receptionists were getting pissed off. No?
I take out my notebook and decide to recycle some papers. Tear and crumple then tear and crumple. What I didn’t notice was the principal escorting a student from his office.
“Take a seat over there young man and I’ll have Ms. Marks write out a note.” The principal made a dissatisfied face at me, for the third time today, then went to bend over the hard wooden counters to peek down Ms. Mark’s new top. I drowned out their conversation with the thudding of my heart. It got faster and faster till I could feel it trying to rip and run from my chest, not even willing to look back to repair itself. My stomach got nauseas with the little flip-flops of nerves. A squeak of the chair next to me made its way to my ears, despite the throbbing that took place. I cringed over to the other side of my chair, pushing my side against the cool of the armrest, as much as possible…praying this wasn’t happening to me.
“ You again, huh? What now? I don’t usually see kids here as much as me,” the words flowed from him flawlessly just like everything else about him. I looked up, a mistake of course. You can’t be with him you can’t be with him. Why must you try?
“ I don’t remember.” Fuck, I already looked like a creeper. Of course I remembered, I had told a teacher off, but why wouldn’t the words come out now with a hint of seduction? His lips twitched up fighting off a laugh and in response almost automatically my eyes swelled up. To hide further embarrassment I looked away, very deliberately.
“ Sure thing, well I’m about to get out of here. You don’t feel like ditching do you? Of course, I could bring you home if you want…for a price.” What was this boy asking me? No one looked at me in a way I ever thought to be normal, friendship, or maybe interest. But there was something in his face. It was there. It was definitely something. I still didn’t face him will I dissected his sentence.
“ Erm, yea but I only have five bucks on me. That okay? You don’t have to do this.” I so wanted him to in yet how could I ever strike up a conversation with him? Wait. I knew how… I knew exactly how, and it was in my locker.
“ Cool, when the bell rings meet me outside by my truck. It’s in the back of the lot.” His smile only made me more willing to jump onto his lap and do things my mother would shun at. I didn’t respond but I guessed he knew that I was freaking out to the point of being mute. The bell rang and I sprinted from the office when I was out of his sight to my locker. I fumbled at the combination, my hands were coated with a light sheen of sweat, but I finally opened the gates to heaven. I ripped the bag from my coat pocket and didn’t care who was looking. I rammed my nose up to the bag and sniffed in deeply, fully, and already felt my nerves reconnect themselves.