You're Gone

When you have nothing, you have nothing to lose. When you have nowhere to live, you don't have a house to ruin. When you have no one who truly cares about you, you have no one to let down. When you have no dignity, you'll do just about anything to get what you want. Etc, etc.

It was dark when I woke up. Rainy. Like most every time I woke up. The shades were all drawn, the windows shut, the lights all off. His arm was heavy around my waist, weighing me down to the mattress and making it nearly impossible for me to get up without waking him. I finally slithered my way out of his grip and crawled to the end of the dirty mattress that lay in the middle of the floor. I quickly pulled the loose board at the end of the bed up from the floor, peering down and checking the stash. We had done all the drugs last night, leaving us with a small dime bag. Sighing, I grabbed the bud anyway and scrambled to find Oliver's bowl that I was sure was somewhere around the messy room.

I was already itching to get something toxic in my system. I hadn't even been awake for five minutes yet and I was already tweaking out. I wasn't sure how long I had slept till though, the room was completely void of clocks and the fact it was raining outside wasn't a good indicator of the time of day either. When I finally found the medium sized glass bowl underneath a plethora of old tee-shirts I just about cried and I immediately began breaking up the tiny bud and placing the smaller pieces in the bowl.

My skin was crawling. I was itching the back of my neck, my arms, my face. My hands were shaking so badly I kept dropping pieces of weed on the floor, cursing loudly as I shook my hand furiously to try and stop the twitch. But it wouldn't stop. And I knew that. I knew I wouldn't be calm until there was something illegal in my system. I needed it to function, to think straight, to live.

When I finally filled the bowl, I grabbed a pair of jeans on the ground knowing there would be a lighter inside. I crawled back over to Oliver's sleeping form, placing the bowl carefully on the ground next to the mattress. Straddling him, I slowly began to kiss his face, his neck, his chest. Anywhere I could reach. I wanted him to wake up. I needed him to wake up. I could barely function without him. Finally his groggy eyes fluttered open, the color completely drained.

"I packed a bowl," I told him softly. "There's nofhing else left."

"I'll give Tiny a call when we're done smokin', yeah?"

"Okay," I nodded slowly, a small smile on my face. I leaned down to kiss him and he met me halfway, his lips perfectly forming against my own. I took my first hit with my legs wrapped around Oli's waist as I sat facing him. I flicked the lighter, watching as the flame erupted from the small blue piece of plastic before turning it upside down and burning the green. I inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet taste of the bud as it coated and burned my lungs. I let go of the carb slowly, taking one last breath before removing my mouth from the piece.

"Kiss meh," Oliver instructed. So I did. The smoke still in my mouth, I pushed my mouth to his. He sucked some of the smoke out as we kissed each other roughly, his hand pressing the back of my neck closer to him. I ran my empty hand down him chest, my fingers running over each of his ribs as I did so.

We were both sickly skinny from the drugs, from not eating, from just laying around all day and rotting away. Our clothes were dirty, we were dirty. We were running out of money, and that meant running out of drugs. And as I sat there kissing him, I wondered where we were start getting our drugs in a week or so, when everything was gone.

Little did I know things would start falling apart much quicker than that.
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"I 'ave a meetin' today," he said after we had both shot up a decent amount of crank later in the day. I still wasn't sure what time it was, everything outside of these four walls not mattering much at all.

I hadn't been listening to anything he was rambling about- something he tended to do when he was high- but this caught me by surprise. I was well aware of his band and his Drop Dead company, but when we were in the apartment the real world just sort of dissipated and all that was left was the drugs and each other. My dull blue eyes managed to crawl up his body until they landed on his face, taking in his appearance.

He was getting more lifeless by the day, and only when there were chemicals in his veins did he even look alive anymore. His hair was starting to get thin and brittle, when I would tug on it sometimes it would fall out. The bags under his eyes were heavy and dark, almost looking like they were painted there instead of being real. The stubble on his jaw was growing by the day, making him look even more scruffy and unmanaged than normal. I wondered what other people would think when they saw him. I wondered if they would automatically assume it was drugs. I wondered if everyone else would still think he was as beautiful as I did. I wondered if people would feel sorry for him or look down on him. I wondered if people would blame me or the disease.

"'ow long will yeh be gone?" I asked, letting my fingers dance around the tattoos that were painted onto his arms.

"I dunno," he shrugged lamely. "'opefully not long."

"I don't wan' yeh ta leave," I pouted, scooting closer to him until he could wrap his skinny arm around my boney waist. I let my head fall down to his shoulder, sighing deeply as it rested there.

I was always so sure I would never need anyone. That I could do everything by myself. That maybe I would have a boyfriend and maybe I would love him but I would never need him. But I needed Oliver. I needed him so badly it hurt. I needed him and loved him more than even I could comprehend. Maybe even more than I needed the drugs. Because I only needed them on a physical level, but when it came to Oliver, I needed him on every level. I needed him every day, all the time. And even thinking about him leaving for just a little bit made my heart ache.

"I 'ave ta," he murmured, giving me a small squeeze to let me know he hadn't left just yet. He nudged the side of my face with his nose, urging me to turn around which I did quickly. He captured my lips just as quickly, fusing them together tightly. "Love yeh Tris," his lips brushed against mine as he spoke. I sighed contently as he whispered to me, suddenly feeling more at ease than even the drugs made me.

"Let's get yeh cleaned up," I smiled.

I dragged him to the bathroom, sitting him down on the toilet and then grabbing my compact and straddling him. He looked like proper shit, and I knew his father would be at the meeting. I didn't need him to think I was bad for Oliver. Because I couldn't get taken away from him.

"I'm not wearin' make-up," he told me sternly.

"Yeh 'ave before," I pointed out lazily as I blotted the concealer under his eyes to hide the bags that hung there.

"It was a phase," he mused. I smiled and kissed his eyelids before I finished covering up the bags. When I had made his face look a little more presentable I moved to his hair, brushing it carefully and letting the pieces that had gotten pulled out float to the floor.

"Yeh should wear a hoodie," I offered, rummaging through a pile of clothes I wasn't all too sure were even clean. "Yeh're starting to show track marks." He nodded simply and slipped on a hoodie of his own brand that I had passed to him.

"Do yeh fhink they'll say anyfhing?" He asked seriously. When I looked up at him I couldn't focus because it felt like my skin was crawling. My head suddenly felt light and my stomach churned; I felt like I was going to have a sick right there in the middle of the flat.

"Tris," Oliver's voice was concerned. "'re yeh okay?"

"I jus' feel...sick is all," I told him. "I need somefhing ta calm me down, make my stomach better..." I trailed off. I couldn't believe I was already withdrawing. I was becoming more addicted as each day passed.

"I'll hit up Tiny on tha way 'ome," he reassured me, carefully leading me over to the mattress in the middle of the room. "Jus' try an' sleep. Yeh 'aven't in days," he said, his eyes searching my face. I wasn't sure what he was looking for but it made me nervous. Like I wasn't sure if he would come home, like I was sure he was looking at me like I was crazy. I closed my eyes and everything started to spin and my skin was crawling. He kissed my forehead and left.

When he came back my skin was raw and red and bleeding by fault of my own fingernails.