These Lonely Streets

The low hum of the television was the only thing keeping me awake.

I had stuck to one drink, and it wasn’t quite enough to kick the life out of me, but enough to bring my tired body down.

Randy, who had been a lunatic after seven drinks, had crashed out on the recliner with his legs dangling off the side. Buster and Jaycee had fallen asleep in each other’s arms on the couch. I knew those two had always been closer than we gave them credit for. As for James, he had stepped out onto the balcony to have a smoke, leaving Goliath and I wide awake in the living room.

Occasionally, I’d catch Goliath’s eyes on me, at which he’d always turn his head and pretend he’d been watching television the entire time. I’d sigh at his obviousness, but he ignored it every time. Eventually he became tired of just the television noise that separated us. Goliath motioned his head toward the hallway, but I was hesitant to even take one step toward him.

However, Goliath was unaware of my awkwardness and headed down the hallway. With high uncertainty, I stood and followed him into Buster's bedroom where he sat, waiting.

"Yeah?" I asked, genuinely annoyed.

"Can we talk?" he asked, patting the space beside him.

"For a minute," I replied, taking the seat. Silence swept over the room, a feeling of oddity and not to my liking.

"What happened to us?" he asked.

Well, way to get to the point.

"I don't know, Goliath."

"We used to be so close, and things were, well, nice. Things felt so effortless."

"We broke up," I replied flatly.

"Yeah, but what about now, too? We were fine when we came to pick you up."

"Well, we both have horrible tempers, you know. Honestly, we are the two worst people to try and have a conversation because we spark so easily."

Goliath let a small smirk onto his lips, his gaze on me. It was softer than before, triggering memories from my past.

"That's true, but I wish we could go back a couple years. I miss those days," he said.

Goliath missed my addict self? I gave him a look.

"No offense, but I know now that there was more that I could have done to save you."

I didn't want to be saved.

"Goliath, nothing you could have done would have stopped me. I was in too deep. Buster was right when he said that rehab was the only hope for me."

"But our fighting never helped you," he said quietly.

It hurt horribly to know the truth to his words.

"I know," I replied. Whenever a fight ensued between the two of us, my escape was through drugs, alcohol, and whatever else could take me away from reality. It always felt amazing and let my problems ease, but I never felt that it was going to become an even worse problem than it was.

"Can we start this over?" he asked.

"Start what over?" I asked cautiously.

He paused, seeming a bit embarrassed to make any reply.

"Everything."

Goliath leaned closer to me, slowly pressing his lips to mine. The temptation teased my mind as the taste of alcohol on his lips pulled me in and, at the same time, killed the part of me that I had spent a year trying to permanently shut out. My hands raveled into his shaggy blonde hair and I let myself go for the first time in a year. Even though Goliath was not a drug, he sure as hell held the power of one.

However, there was still the doubt poking at the back of my mind over his reactions to me today. Why so pissy? Suddenly there was a strong sense of want and need coming from him, but it couldn't be for just me.

Maybe just my body, but definitely not me.

My mind flashed me back to my time in rehab, a horrible truth poking at my brain. Dr. Walker had calmy explained to all of us that there was one key element in all of our stories that may, and usually did, push us further into the dark world of drug abuse and whatnot. Our common element? Sex. Not that I could vividly remember all those times, but it was true; sex definitely could cause a person to want to use more frequently.

We were all told that when we left rehab we were to steer clear of our physical desires, for it was almost a guarantee that we would relapse if we were to have sex. Sure, it had been over a year for me, but I was trying to stay clean. I had made a promise to myself.

"Goliath?" I asked quietly against his lips. With a sigh, he pulled away and looked me right in the eyes.

"What?" he asked.

"I don't want to do this," I said.

"Why not?" he asked. He decided to sit up a bit, but he had switched to straddling me and was disabling my ability to leave.

"I just don't. I'm trying to stay clean, and this won't help me any." I stared up at him. Goliath seemed disappointed, almost frustrated, but at the same time I could tell he was thinking.

"You'll be fine," he stated flatly. He leaned down, pressing his lips to mine again and slowly inching his fingers up my shirt. Well, that was that. I was powerless against him. Against my own will, I let myself go with it, and Goliath seemed pleased by my decision. It hurt to see myself give up so easily, but that's what I had been used to my entire life. Giving up and giving in. Nothing more. Someone like me never won.

Goliath left my lips, kissing his way down my cheek to my jawbone. It was his weapon of mass seduction, and we both knew that from past experiences. I bit my lip at how amazing it felt to have his lips on my skin, but I was still feeling broken and weak from caving in so easily. Hadn't I been taught not to let people walk all over me?

"Goliath, really, just stop," I said. I figured trying again might ease his urge, to show him that I was dead serious about not being able to sleep with him.

"What's the fucking problem, Cory?" he asked.

"I told you, I can't do this."

"You can."

Goliath pressed his lips back onto mine, his hands moving further up my shirt.

"I fucking told you no!" I yelled, pushing him off with as much force as I could manage from my frail arms. Goliath landed beside me on the bed, and before he could pull me back, I jumped up.

"Look, I gotta go," I said nervously, fixing my shirt and rushing out the bedroom door. I sketched his current face in my mind; dazed, confused, and wondering why I had rejected him. I had my reasons that he should have accepted. Didn't he realize what sex could potentially do to me? Upon walking into the living room, I noticed that everyone was finally asleep, the only noise being the volume on the television as it lit up the dark room with frantically switching colors. I exited the apartment as quickly as I could without disturbing the peace, and before Goliath had a chance to jump up and reason with me to stay. His words were worthless to my ears at this point.

As soon as I stepped out of the complex, I let myself collapse against the cool, red brick wall and breathe in the night air to relax. My tank top was still a bit messed up, and my black sweats were sliding down my thighs. I pulled them back up, not even realizing Goliath had been working on my sweats when we were in Buster's room. I stood up straight and started in the direction of my apartment complex, letting my breaths even out to calm myself down.

The night sky was darker than coal, but the stars that dotted the sky and the half crescent moon provided a bit of light and beauty to Camden. In the distance where the larger portion of the city stood were more lights, but they were artificial and discolored, showing off the slight smog in the sky. I turned my eyes to the sky, picking out constellations to pass the time and let my thoughts wander. I never understood the more intricate star patterns such as Pisces or even Orion, or even what time of the year to look for them. All my eyes could ever pick out were the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper, and once I was able to spot them, I turned my eyes back on the sidewalk.

It was a danger, being in Camden after dark. My year away certainly wouldn't change that feature. The fact that I was alone and had no weapon didn't help my odds any. Far out in the city, the whistling of an ambulance fluttered to my attention, and my only thought was who was shot this time. The sounds of gunfire in the city were silence to me now; they were so frequent, I didn't even realize them anymore. The sound picked up in volume, and I honestly could say I was scared. My feet picked up beneath me, pushing me into a sprint down the sidewalk. Someone had to be around, someone that I couldn't trust. My adrenaline pulsed through my every vein like my desired heroin did so long ago, only this time it didn't fill me with a sensation worth dying over. Fear filled its place and nothing would overcome it until I reached the safe haven of my apartment.

In the blink of an eye, something taut struck me in the face, sending me spiraling down into the cold pavement. A loud, bloodcurdling sound drifted through my ears, but it took me only seconds to realize that it was the sound of my own scream. A loud burst of sound rocketed through my eardrums, leaving my left arm in what felt like paralyzation. What was it? My eyes were closed tight, completely unwilling to look at the beginning of the damage.