Inhale, Exhale

"Samantha!" My mom shouted as she busted through my bedroom door. "It's seven! You were supposed to be up an hour ago! Wake your fat ass up, right now!"

Her voice sounded a bit like nails on a chalkboard, but not as sweet. Definitely not as sweet as she looked, I can tell you. She's almost forty, but she could probably pass for twenty. Her body must not believe in gaining weight much like her mindset. She also doesn't fart in public.

She's practically your average-walking Barbie doll but with brown hair.

I peeked out from the blankets I had pulled up all the way to my mouth and glared at her. "I'm awake." I snarled.

"Then why aren't you up?" She asked, walking over to the window and throwing the curtains open. Sun flooded the room and then my blankets went over my head. The sun wasn't a late-riser's best friend.

"Because I'd have to see you." I spat, and she ripped the blankets from my body.

"You should consider that an honor." She said, smiling like a demon down on me. "Just like any other normal person would." She paused as she reached the door leading out of my room. "But I forgot. You aren't normal." And then she left.

Relieved of her presence, I sat up and tasseled my hair. Getting dreadlocks started sounding like a better idea every day - so much less work. But one thing that sounded even better was a morning bowl, which I promptly received from a shoe box in my closet and lit up. The smoke filled my mouth and slithered down my throat as I threw my clothes on.

Well. Mother wouldn't consider them clothes, as they were just sweat pants and a tank top but it worked for me.

And for every girl in my school, apparently.

"She makes a hot guy" is literally the first thing I hear every morning on arrival. It'd be a huge compliment if I was a raging lesbo but the shocking thing is I'm not.

In fact, I really like penis. A lot. Maybe more than I should but what ya' gonna do?

Nothing. That's what. Exactly what I do in school, apart from smoke in the girls bathroom and maybe sneak a few slips under my skin with a paper clip. That's my school routine unless Allie intervenes with a pretty powder to taunt me with during lunch.

"Guess which goody I got, baby girl." She chimed, pulling me into a bathroom on the second floor and dangling the baggy in front of my face. The substance within it was white and looked very heavy. I gently took it from her and examined it more closely.

"Hydros?" I guessed but it only made her laugh.

"Lame. Nah, baby. I got us some Cocoa-cola." Allie said, lifting one eyebrow and then winking at me. My mouth probably dropped by the way she smiled triumphantly.

"Coke?" I nearly shouted, her hand clamping over my mouth quick.

"Shut up, dykey. Don't need someone coming in and asking for a sniff."

She was right. We don't share. Not at parties, home, or school. Never. It's just a don't of our drug world.

Allie set us up in the last stall; the drug on the back of the toilet and a dollar between her fingers.

"Rock, paper, scissors for first go?" She asked, but I just shook my head and while doing so, a wild idea slipped into my ears.

"No, wait, wait." I stalled, getting my wallet out and opening it. Where I kept my school ID, behind it was always a metal friend. I took the razor out and wiggled it while thinking.

Allie leaned against the wall, bored and obviously craving a line. "What're you thinking, Sam?"

"Watch." I instructed, holding out one arm. I pressed the razor to my tainted wrist and pulled it across slowly. Allie was fascinated, only having cut herself once or twice. The blood came slowly, seeping out of the deep slice. I handed the razor to her to hold. I pinched some of the cocaine between my fingers and sprinkled it over the cut.

Complete numbness.

I took the dollar from her and then snorted my fat line. I stood up straight and lulled my head against the wall, watching her closely. She was eyeing the razor, her eyebrows drawn tight in thought. My lips split into a grin.

"Go for it."

And boy, did she.



After school, Allie shared the rest of the coke with me. She gave me the bag and poured herself some into a test tube she carried on her at all times.

"For experiments," she enlightened me when I asked. Overall, I considered it a damn good idea.

I barely caught my bus and got off at the fifth stop, walking the opposite direction from my house. Just down the street, my estranged dad's sister lived.

Aunt Carrie. Aged, like fine wine, and yet young at the same time. She was honestly a very lovely lady, with demons that raged just as badly as mine.

I knocked twice on her door, and on the third knock, she answered. Her black hair was up in a messy bun and her eyes were red from crying and hopefully something else.

"Baby!" She cooed, bringing me into her arms for a tight hugged I gratefully returned. The potent smell of Wild Turkey filled my nostrils and made my knees go weak. She knowingly brought me inside and handed me a fat joint she had resting on an end table. Aunt Carrie held up a lighter and burned the end, smiling at me.

"You take after your father so much." She purred, petting my hair like I was an obedient dog as we sat on her leather couch together. I giggled. "Which is a very good thing." She finished, fishing her bottle of Turkey out of a glass cabinet next to her TV.

Aunt Carrie served me good that night with lots of food and lots of Turkey. We laughed and she told stories about my dad and how he had served in the military.

Then he just disappeared. I never thought much of it. Neither did mom, I guess. She never seemed that upset about it. In fact, she only mentioned him once in my entire life.

Around nine, Aunt Carrie showed me to the door and gave me a strong pat on the back. Her eyes were droopy and her jaw was slack, but yet she still managed to speak with this honey coated voice that was soothing and sure.

"You're gonna turn out alright, Samantha." She said, kissing my cheek. "Remind your mother of that sometimes."

I staggered away laughing at how silly she sounded. Mom? Listening to anything I say? Letting me into her head, let alone letting her into mine?

She did let me into the house, however. She stared at me as I walked through the door and I turned and shook my head at her. So clean cut, so pretty even when she was about to go to bed.

"Momma," I said, "I'm gonna turn out alright."

Her lips slipped into a very tight smile. Then she laughed. And I laughed. And we laughed together, knowing just how pathetic I sounded and understanding what a lie I had just uttered.