Junk

Flashback ~ JUNE 12TH 2009 ~

The very few second it took for the puck to pass from player to player down the length of the ice, before it was so gracefully propelled into the net was a nail biting, breathtaking moment. There was no single butt upon a seat in the stands, the arena was silent with anticipation. That was, until the buzzer sounded alerting everyone that the puck has in fact hit the back of the net. Running down into the locker room, just minutes after he had lifted Lord Stanley's cup, was a feeling like no other. My whole being was filled with pride and wonderment.
As I pushed my way around the press and other players, I set my eyes upon the man I was in love with. The very man who's name was on every one's lips. Sidney Crosby.

It was like he had a sixth sense, because as soon as I was clear of people his eyes connected with mine. He didn't waste any time in launching himself across the little space between us, wrapped his arms around me, crashing his lips to mine while spinning as I secured my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.
“We did it Baby! We won the cup!” he exclaimed after breaking the kiss
“I'm so proud of you. I cant believe it, the cups coming home” I murmured softly, pressing our foreheads together.
“God, I love you. I love you so much” He breathed against my mouth
“I love you too, Baby. I love you too” I whispered gently before reconnecting our lips again, ignoring the camera flashes.
~ ~ ~ ~

PRESENT; August 12th 2012

When you decide to die, little things begin to happen; you stop looking both ways before you cross the street, you start answering the door without asking who's there, you don't hold onto the railing when you go down the escalator, you don't buckle your seat belt, you play with matches, you smoke and breath it in, actually praying it will make a difference, and you drink your own body weight in alcohol.
Deciding to die is actually almost nice, in a way. You stop caring. Even if you are not pro-actively looking for ways to kill yourself, you stop looking for ways to survive.

After almost 9 months, you would think I was coping fine with things. I was. I was coping just fine. In my own way.

I couldn't tell you how long I had been sat there, alone on the bench with the cold Pittsburgh breeze stinging my face, my knees pulled up to my chest, my chin resting on top of my boney knees, staring straight out at the water. A cold breeze ripped past me making me shiver and wish that I had something other than a thin tank top and jeans to keep me warm, but I was frantic and didn't think before I tore out of the glass doors, past the shouting attendants and the baffled receptionists. I wasn't ready to admit that I had lost everything I had to live for.

“Sparrow,”
Someone said softly while placing their hand on my shoulder. I gasped and jumped up as fast as I could from my hunched position on the bench. Turning around I met the sympathy filled gaze of my older brother, Jordan.
“Jesus, fucking, shit, Jordan!” I screamed stumbling back, almost falling over in the process.

Jordan's eyes flicked over my skeletal form until he caught sight of what was sitting on the bench next to where I was just seconds ago perched. A half bottle of Jack Daniels and a baggy. Disappointment flooded into his eyes as he looked back up to meet my eyes.
“Fuck, Sparrow -,” he started
“Don't you dare, Jordan. Don't you fucking dare start!” I spat at him as I jabbed my finger into his chest, “You don't get to start judging me right now!”

Jordan gently but firmly grabbed my shoulders and looked me right in the eyes and softly said
“No one is judging you Row, No one. We're worried. You just disappeared! Ran out of there like a bat out of hell,”
“I didn't want to be there anymore! I never wanted to be there! I was fine, I was coping, and you fucked it it. You couldn't just leave me to it. I was doing just fine with Oscar, but as always, my fuckwad of a soon to be ex-husband and you just had to swoop in and save me WHEN I DIDN'T NEED SAVING!”my eyes were stinging with tears, but I refused to let them fall in front of him.

Jordan's eyes flashed with something I hadn't seen in a long time, his jaw clenched so hard I was surprised his teeth didn't shatter. He took one large, menacing step forward, lowered his head to look me directly in the eyes and started, softly at first
“Oh yeah, you was coping so well, that Oscar forgot to get fed, clothed or even bathed countless times! You was coping so fucking well that if Sidney hadn't of turned up to see Oscar when he did, you'd be dead and your THREE YEAR OLD SON WOULD BE LEFT WITH A DEAD MOTHER!”

“I- I just want my son back.” I said quietly as I looked at the ground while hugging my arms around my tiny, boney waist. Jordan scoffed.
“Yeah, good luck with that baby sister, they aren't going to let you within 60 feet of the kid. Not after what you've just gone and done. Are you stupid? You must be, right? I mean, you were a cracked out coke whore junkie. We was trying to help you, help Oscar, but you've just gone and threw that back in our faces. So good fucking luck getting to Oscar. You'll have to get through Sid first.”

I could feel my breath catching in my throat as tears brimmed my eyes. I ran as fast as I could towards Jordan, pushed him with as much force as I could muster. I let out a gut wrenching scream
“GET THE FUCK AWAY I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR FAKE CAREING BULLSHIT! I KNOW WHAT I DID, AND WHAT I WAS – STILL AM! I DONT NEED YOU TO REMIND ME” I turned and once again, ran. Ignoring his shouts for me to stop, I ran as fast as I could – all while my insides felt like they were being squeezed and juiced right in front of me.

~~8 months ago ~~

“Let me go!” I screamed at the top of lungs and my frail body was carried towards the glass doors of hell. Jordan kept his firm grip on me, not saying a word as I used my nails to claw at his tan arms – wanting him to let me go so I could run as fast as I could.

“I just got out of the hospital Jord, put me the fuck down.” I moved my blonde hair out of the way to catch a glimpse of my brother's face, it was stone cold. His lips were pressed into a flat line, his eyebrows scrunched together as he kept his blue eyes straight ahead at where he was walking.

I was weak and I was dying. My body was forever breaking out into sweats and I even started pulling my own hair out to deal with the pain I was feeling. The spot where the IV was in my hand still throbbed, going to show that not much has changed in the three hours since I was released from the hospital.

After I was wheeled out in a chair and put in Sidney's car, it took me three minutes on the highway to realize I wasn't being taken home. I had no time to do anything when I left the hospital – I couldn't go home and sleep or shower or see my two year old son, Oscar.

The atmosphere in the car was different – a weird different. Sidney had buried his head into my neck and placed a soft kiss on the base of it before shutting the car door and walking over to take the wheel. The two of them said nothing to me, but mumbled light whispers every once and a while at each other.

“Where are we going?” I questioned as we turned towards the freeway entrance, going the complete opposite way than where the house was.

“Where are we going, seriously?” I spat at them when I didn't get a response. The silence continued in the car as we rolled on the freeway, my bitter mood becoming worse. I was starving, I was craving, I was tired – I was fucking done.

When we pulled up to a big building, I knew this wasn't good. Before I could even react, the car was in park and my brother was opening my door and taking me into his arms forcefully, knowing I was about to start a fight with him like so many times before.

“Jord, please. Put me down, I am fine.” I whispered at him, using my calm voice to try and persuade him that I was fine to walk.

“Stop with the fucking act, Sparrow. I am done.” His voice was cold, colder than I could ever remember it being. I caught a glimpse of Sidney who was walking behind us at a distance, two suitcases in his hands and a sad look on his face. No. No.

My eyes squinted in the sun as I read the sign we were walking towards – Gateway Rehabilitation Center. No. That's when I lost it.

“NO! You can't bring me here! Jordan! ARE YOU CRAZY? NO, DON'T DO THIS.” I screamed as loud as I could to get my point across as I tried even harder to get out of my brother's grip as he walked up the stairs, still carrying me. The glass doors were opened by two men wearing blue scrubs who moved to take me from my brother's arms.

“YOU CAN'T DO THIS. SID, BABY! PLEASE, I'M BETTER. I'LL BE FINE.” I was lying, I wanted out of here and I wanted to go back home and go back to the life I was living. One of the men had a handle on me as Sidney stepped inside and gave my suitcases to two more workers, a pang hitting my heart.

I struggled in the man's arms, wanting nothing more than to be released from them so I could get out of here. I looked at Sidney and used my eyes to plea with him,

“Baby, please don't do this. Please.” I could feel tears slowly begin to fall down my cheeks as my pleas went unattended to – Sidney taking the clipboard from the lady behind the counter. He was trying to put on a brave face in front of me, both of them were. It made me sick.

He was ignoring me, too busy signing my entire life away on one sheet of paper as my brother watched. They had no compassion – they just didn't want to deal with me anymore. They were too scared and didn't care about their wife and sister anymore.

“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO YOUR OWN WIFE? JUST LEAVE HER HERE TO ROT?” I screamed at him as I kicked the attendant who was holding me, hoping that would give me enough to get out of his arms. Another man quickly came over and took my legs, both of them beginning to haul me through an open door way.

I glared at my brother and Sidney once last time as I was being carried away – all I could feel was complete and utter disgust for them at this point. How could they do this to me? I was their family, I spent my life with them and they were just throwing me away.

My brother used to always have my back no matter what – he would defend me during anything and everything in life. He was my big brother, he was supposed to be there to protect me. And my husband, he was supposed to look over me and take care of me no matter what, but now – he was just like my fucking sad excuse of a mother.

“I HOPE BOTH OF YOU FUCKING DIE!”