Vodka and Lemonade

I was on a constant high for three years. I don’t remember much, just the feeling of being- of Euphoria. It was an experience unlike any other that I had known. For those three years, I knew nothing of grief and suffering. I ate, drank, and fucked my way through life.

It was a fun.

…until one horrible night.

I crashed. I crashed hard. I remember waking up in the hospital cuffed to the bed. I was so weak- so fucking wrecked. The only thing I remember before that was me having to go meet up with a client. That didn’t happen. Apparently I ODed and was found with barely a pulse. With the hell I was about to go to, I think that it wouldn’t been better if my savior just left me in the dumpster they found me in. I was terrified of what Lou would do to me. I was so fucking good! And now this? I was screwed.

As soon as the hospital realized I didn’t have insurance, they threw me in the pig’s hands. I won’t begin to tell you how much that sucked. A week and a million fines (that I wouldn’t pay) later, and I was tossed back onto the streets. I didn’t know where the fuck to go. I couldn’t go back to Meeri’s. and I sure as hell wasn’t stupid enough to go back to Lou. I had a crummy life, but I didn’t wanna lose it- that much was for sure. So, I went back to the only stink hole left- my house.

It was easy enough. For as long as I could remember, Delilah was always passed out on the couch with several bottles around her. She wouldn’t wake up for a long while. Her flavor of the week would stay the night and would always be gone before dawn. It was a tragic life, but it worked in my favor.

I snuck into the house- it was always unlocked- and grabbed as much food from the kitchen that I could- well, whatever was edible. I shoved it in my backpack and picked my way to my old room, which was nothing more than a glorified closet. It wasn’t much, but I wasn’t planning on staying for too long. I curled up the best I could- just realizing how much I had grown since I had last been there- and fell into an uneasy sleep. In a few hours, I would leave and rummage around until I could find another place to lay my head for the night.

It was a crummy life, but it was the only thing I knew.