Slutgarden

Aimee’s POV

My brother dropped me off at the end of the street, he was going over to his friend’s house. A knot twisted in my stomach as I walked further down my street, my disgustingly massive house shadowing all over the other houses on the street, like a bully on the playground. I still don’t understand why I refer to it as my “house”. I mean, isn’t a “house” supposed to be a “home”? And isn’t your “home” supposed to be where you’re most comfortable? Loved, respected, protected? Somewhere you can be without fear? Somewhere you can go when you’re scared? Somewhere the people you love the most reside as well? Not somewhere where your sickest memories took place. Not somewhere where you are terrified to go back to, even if you know the nightmare is hopefully over. Not somewhere where you are forced to see, touch, and hear the person that completely molded you into the sick disgrace you are today. Somebody who makes you want to disembowel yourself every single time you see them.

I stopped walking and looked up into the crisp, autumn sky. Closing my eyes tightly and taking a deep breath, I whispered the mantra I had been telling myself whenever I got upset over this for the past three years.

Forgive the sins of thy Father for he and thy Mother are your Creators. Without thy Father thou would not be able to be present in the ever holy, warming, and beautiful essence that is of our Lord, the Holy Savior Jesus.

Sure, it’s a little melodramatic, but it really does get me through it sometimes. I flashed a fake smile to whoever wasn’t looking and began making my way up the cement steps to my front door. Turning my key in the lock, I pressed my body against the door. The familiar aroma of lavender filled my nostrils as I stepped inside, throwing my messenger style bag on the chest that sat beside the door.

I looked into the fridge, I hadn’t eaten lunch today so I was hungrier than usual. Scanning through it, I realized all we had was health food. As usual. Sighing, I took an Arizona and got a bag of Sun Chips from the counter when I realized I had geometry homework.

The usual wave of panic washed over me. What if I forgot the lesson and had no idea what to do with the homework? Or even worse…what if I did remember the lesson, and then forgot to turn it in? Then I would get an E on the paper and fail the class and not get into college.

Or what if that began such a downward slope that I ended up dropping out? At least without a complete college diploma I could still get a job…but not without a GED.

I felt a warm tear make its way out of my left eye, and more tears kept pouring out. I stopped myself, taking five deep breaths. I really cannot control myself sometimes. I mean, look at how pathetic I am. Crying over the possibility of not turning in my homework.

Damn…I really scared myself sometimes.

*

Frankie’s POV

“God damn what is this lady’s problem?” I muttered to myself as I sat in the left lane, the car in front of me going awfully slow. I was drumming my fingers against the wheel to the beat of “My Way Home Is Through You” by My Chemical Romance. This slow car in front of me was really getting on my nerves. I had to get to Mike’s now.

Eventually, the car in front of me began to speed up. I basically zoomed down to McDevitt Road, where Mike’s yellow two bedroom small house sat. Adrenaline began pumping through my veins as I pulled into his dirt driveway, the excitement about what I was about to receive was almost too much.

This is how it was every time. Every time I got my fill from Mike, I was like this. Hyper, excited, paranoid, nervous, almost a thousand motions all overcoming me at the same time. It was a crazy thing, how I was so excited over some little white pills. Almost how small children get when they get a new truck or Barbie doll. As I got out of my car, I once again checked to make sure I had the $372, I didn’t wanna show up without the money, that’d be bad.

I did the normal rhythmic knock on his front door to let him know it was a buyer that was there, not a solicitor or family or something. Quickly, Mike came to the door.

Mike is a tall guy, about 20. He had spiky brown hair and a layer of 5 o’ clock shadow. He had dirt underneath his fingernails and what looked like grease from fixing cars on his arms and hands. There was a scab developing around the black horseshoe lip ring that was on the left side of his lower lip. He had a smile on his face. “C’mon in, babe.”

I walked into his house, there was the song “Wart Hog” by the Ramones playing on the stereo. Two other men that looked about his age sat on the couch, passing what looked like a joint of weed between them. “She cool?” one of them said to Mike, his voice strained as he held in the hit that he had just taken. Mike laughed, “Fuck yeah.”

He lead me to the back room and pulled out a set of clear, medium sized, plastic shoeboxes and turned to me, a smile still resident on his face. I looked over the boxes, seeing if there was anything better than what I was about to ask for.

“How about some loads?”

He laughed to himself, knowing he shouldn’t of asked me because loads were my favourite and almost the only thing I bought from him, other than the things he supplied me with. Opening one of the boxes, several bags of my candy sat inside. They had numbers written on them according to the milligram of the pills and how many pills were in a bag. Mike looked at me, his sparkly blue eyes clearly asking me how much I wanted. “Fifteen milligram, 120?”

“I already had a bag ready for you.”

He lifted up one of the bags filled with the little, circular, white friends of mine. “That will be-”

I cut him off, “$327.” I said as I pulled the wad of money that was secured by a purple rubber band out of my pocket, his smile grew even larger as he took the wad of money, removed the band, and counted it. After he made sure it was the right amount, he threw the bag at me. I rolled it up and hid it in the inside pocket of my jacket and leaned over on my tip toes and kissed him on the cheek.

“Awh shucks.” he said in a mock hillbilly voice, he was so adorable sometimes.

I made my way out of his house, my heart pounding with joy as to what I had just bought. I got into my car and counted out ten pills, a hundred and fifty milligrams. I swallowed the pills one by one and sat there, waiting for the effects to kick in.

Sweet, sweet, Codeine.