Don't Forget

I’d never drank so much water in my life. I was thankful Harold had left his shift right at two so that he wouldn’t see me for a second time with my head under the sink, desperately trying to rid the stale taste out of my mouth. I could’ve vomited.

I tapped the sink off and used the back of my hand to wipe at the moisture around my mouth and chin before I glanced in the mirror. I breathed heavily and pulled the hair stuck to my face back and behind my ears. My roots were showing through the once spectacularly red colour I’d once adorned. All I could focus on was the pasty black strands at the dome. I scoffed and quickly placed my cap back on my head.

Without hesitation, I found my water bottle still half full, and the small baggie Tommy had left me after his disgusting request. I shuddered at the thought, opening it up and pinching a very small amount of powder between my fingers. Very carefully I hovered over the water bottle and let the substance cascade into the liquid, not changing its colour or consistency. With the lid back on and a quick shake, I downed the rest of it before taking half of an orange pill, then refilling the bottle.

I closed my eyes and leaned against the aged wooden walls, praying that it’d hit faster than normal this time. I didn’t want to feel anymore. I wanted my mindset to be happy and carefree, and I wanted to feel like I could do anything properly. I slid down the wall and landed on my bum, eyes still shut.

Minutes passed like hours before I recognized my breathing had sped up. A honey-smooth smile spread across my cheeks as I felt my forehead throb. Finally. It was all worth it now; everything was going to be okay. I slowly peeled my eyes open, aware of my sensitivity to light before I made my way back to my feet and exited the bathroom.

~~~~

I always went to the very center of the downtown market at almost any hour of the day, unless I was ready to sleep, and today was no different. The snow had halted enough that I was able to pack my gloves back into my bag and actually feel crisp paper underneath the bare skin of my fingers. I absent mindedly watched my hand go over the blank page of my notebook while my other grasped onto my pencil tighter than I realized. My knuckles had turned to white.

I couldn’t defeat the grin I still wore as I peered up into the crowds of people across the stone path making their way to their homes by this hour. I stuck my tongue out a bit in concentration as I eyed a man on his cell phone leaned against a building. He didn’t seem angry; he seemed frustrated as he threw his arms in the air and furrowed his brow heavily, leaving lines even when he straightened up. He must worry a lot.

I felt a warmth rise in me, suddenly feeling full. Another affect I loved. I was never hungry, and always felt satisfied. I couldn’t feel the pain anymore.

I brought my pencil to the paper, first starting to sketch the gentleman’s hat. He moved to face away from me and I sighed. He was too upset to draw. I looked down at what I’d started and realized how jagged the lines were. My hands shook less than violently and I dropped the pencil, understanding I’d have to wait to draw if I wanted anything to look half decent.

Instead I laid back, resting my head on one of the stone stairs, not really minding if it was cutting into my scalp or not. My mind immediately began to wander as I shut my eyes and watched the dull burnt orange I saw change shape. I began to see memories; happy memories. I didn’t even care that they were about him. I didn’t mind seeing my Oliver. We were happy in that moment, and we were convinced we were in love.

“’Excuse me,” a male voice called from my side. I opened my eyes back up, a bit of a pout in my lips, and trailed my eyes over to the figure sitting right beside me.

I instantly jumped up and scooted away from the man. “’ow the hell did yeh get so close to me?” I said quickly.

“I didn’ try to sneak up on yeh,” he said in one of the thicker accents I’ve heard. My stomach churned. I couldn’t tell if he was staring at me behind his dark sunglasses. He was wearing a beanie, much like mine but black, that barely revealed his shaggy chestnut hair peeking from underneath it. His cheeks were sunken in, more than mine even. My eyes went wide as I noticed his tattoos on his throat. I think the one up front was a rose, but I couldn’t make out the rest. Images threatened to dance from the neckline of his jacket, but I couldn’t distinguish those either.

“Those ‘urt?” I asked blandly. Of course they hurt.

He nodded and smiled. “Aye. What’re yeh doin’ out ‘ere in the cold? Fallin’ asleep?”

“No,” I shrugged, holding my notebook up. “Tried drawin’. Too shakey.”

“Tired?”

I chewed my lip for a split second before I answered. “Very. I should get goin’, actually.”

“Can I see?” he boldly asked, reaching his hand out but not daring to grab the notebook. I winced and pulled away, an expression of worry on my face. Immediately he held his hands up in defense, revealing an amusing tattoo on his palm. “S’okay if yeh don’ wanna show me! I’m sorry.”

I stayed focused on his hand before giving him a quick high five and rising to my feet. He chuckled a laugh that gave me goose bumps. I felt my insides twist in nervousness, and I wasn’t sure why.

“So wha’s yer name?” I didn’t want to start conversation. I wanted to go find somewhere safe to lie down and enjoy the rest of my high, if this stranger hadn’t ruined that anyway. I wanted to find my bed and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be anywhere in this area.

“I really ‘ave to go, uh…home,” I noted, placing my belongings back into my satchel. He mimicked me and stood as well, towering a good foot over me. “Yeh’re so skinny,” I said with a hint of jealousy.

His jacket wasn’t the tightest, but it was snug enough to realize that not much was there. He stood well over six feet and couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and fifty pounds. His arms were long, but his legs were longer. His jeans stuck to his body like water showing off his thighs that couldn’t have been any thicket than my arm. He shrugged and stuffed his tattooed hands into his pockets.

“I eat like a ‘orse,” he smirked, still watching me behind those damn sunglasses. “My mum gives meh shi’ ‘bout it all the time.”

“Aren’t yeh lucky?” I scoffed, feeling my eye begin to twitch. My fingers instinctively made their way to the zipper on my pull over. I began to tug on it quickly just to hear a distracting noise.

There was silence as I knew this strange man was studying me. Did he know Tommy and think that he could get lucky, too? He was skinny and pale enough to be on dope so that wasn’t completely out of the question. But his curiosity in my art led me to think otherwise.

“Yeh okay?” I jumped a bit from him suddenly speaking. “Yeh’re jumpy and twitchy an’ all sorts of strange.”

I wanted to punch him in the face. I wanted to break his arms and legs just because I knew I could. He had officially ruined my high and found a side of me I hadn’t felt in a while. “I’m good, sir,” I spat behind a forked tongue. He seemed taken aback immediately. “Wha’s it matter to yeh, huh? Do yeh always go up to strangers and ask em’ ‘bout their shi’, when it’s obvious they’re busy?” I wasn’t finished. “An’ yeh really ‘ave the nerve to ask me somethin’ like tha’? Who do yeh think yeh are?” My face grew hot.

He was very cautious with his next sentence. “Um, I’m sorry. I…I didn’ know. I’m jus’ makin’ sure everyfin’s fine. Yeh seemed…sad.” My temper burned out as quickly as it flared as I felt a pin strike my heart. I was surprised my heart still knew how to feel anything anymore. It’d been so long.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “Tha’ was rude. I’m jus’…sensitive.”

“Yeh’re fine, love.” That word gave me chills. He blushed just barely behind his pasty skin before he stared into the sky. “It’s gettin’ close to dinner. Need a hand gettin' ‘ome?”

I clicked my tongue against the hood of my mouth, unsure of how to answer. I guess I wouldn’t mind having company, but once he realized my situation he’d leave anyway. “I, uh, no tha’s alrigh’. Thank yeh, though.”

“Yeh sure?” he asked with raised eyebrows. At least I could see that behind his mask. “S’not a great part of town. Some real creeps find their way ‘ere righ’ around now.” My breathing escalated, and he noticed. “Yeh should sit down. Yeh’re turnin’ white an’ breathin’ funny.”

“Tha’s okay; I need to leave.”

“I’ll join yeh.” He smiled in a way that made me feel like a complete asshole.

“I don’ ‘ave a home,” I blurted out before raising my hands to cover my mouth and face. His expression read the complete opposite of what I’d expected. It was almost like he knew I was living on the streets.

“Oh.” One word.

I continued on in embarrassment. “It wasn’ always like tha’, I mean I ‘ave a place if I want to go. I’d jus’ prefer not to be there.”

“Parents?” he asked unknowingly, pulling his hand out of his pocket to scratch the bridge of his nose. Why did he have “dead” tattooed on his fingers? I shuddered.

“Brother,” I shrugged.

“Don’ get along? Did ‘e kick yeh out?” he pried.

There it was; a hit nerve. I clenched my fist around the strap to my bag and started stomping away. My teeth grit together so hard I was sure I’d break one. It took everything to keep the sting of tears from hitting my eyes.

“Wait!” he called after me. I heard the sole of shoes hitting stone and whipped around on my heel, stopping the lanky man dead in his tracks.

“I don’ know yeh; yeh don’ know me. Keep it tha’ way,” I said coldly, making eye contact the best I could with where I figured his eyes were watching. I swerved around to continue on towards the direction of the falling sun. I didn’t hear him follow. It was then that I let my tears fall.