99 Ways to Save a Life

I thought lying down would make the pain go away but it stayed there taunting my every move, which only made the stomach cramps ache more. I couldn’t think straight, I tried walking around my room to get my mind off dumb shit. My thoughts were muddled together and it seemed liked I was walking on a fine line between wrong and right. My body shook uncontrollably, as I stumbled out of my room and into the hallway of the building. I leaned against the rail on the wall, as if it was an imagery hand guiding me to nowhere.

I stopped and finally fell where I stood; my breathing slowed and sped up during different times. I wanted to scream, bite or hit anything I could get my jittery hands on. The emptiness and suffering I had gone through my entire life, I felt showed right now. The pain crept inside my body making me the person I was afraid of becoming. My fists balled up as I pounded the side of the wall letting out my frustration. I closed my eyes hoping the pain would go away. Every bone in my beat up body was broken and I couldn’t win or lose in situations like these, I believed.

“Matty open your eyes, Matthew!” I blankly looked up seeing a woman standing over me; she lightly pulled my head closer to her chest and touched my forehead.

“I’m okay, Erin.” Those words alone pained to say, due to a dry mouth.

“Are you sure? You’re going through withdrawals right now, and – ”

“Please! Just leave me the fuck alone,” I cried, letting out a loud gasp of pain when trying to lift myself from the sitting position I was in on the floor.

“Okay,” she said, “the bathroom is down the hall.” Erin didn’t move, which made me irritated.

“I just want to be left alone,” I whispered underneath my breath, turning my face in the opposite direction. The mentor didn’t say anything else; I heard her footsteps carry her around the corner.

I was embarrassed, ashamed, ignorant and angry with myself for being an addict. I did this to myself with little help from my past. The tears I would cry seemed more like clown tears than human. I gave up on a decent opportunity at life because everyone else had done the same, so it was understandable. I couldn’t stop thinking about what went terribly wrong that night, I was about to tell Leah what had happened but I caught myself. I needed someone to listen to my story. Someone who could mend these broken bones.

I felt more nauseated by sitting on the floor for so long. My throat burned and the stomach and muscle cramps were painful than earlier. I couldn’t take it anymore; it felt like someone had ran over my body with a three hundred pound truck and left me for dead. Raising my arms to grab the rail behind me, damn near took all the life I had left to pull myself up.

I gagged at the bitter taste of my tongue as I collided with the bathroom stall, bending over emptying every part of me bad into the toilet. My eyes watered releasing all the pain and frustration away. I was one of those junkies who needed something injected or snorted to function properly. There were times where I knew Opium, Morphine, Codeine and Oxycodone more than my own name, and now I’m not sure if I’m crying because of the pain, or just the pure sadness I had endured. My head rested on my arm, which rested on the toilet seat and I felt my breathing change again. It was controlled and labored.

On my way out of the neatly decorated bathroom’s stall, I tripped over my own foot stumbling backwards, hitting the title. Blackness devoured me as I went in and out.

***

A swift kick to my leg made me open my eyes, as blurriness created fragments of a person that watched over me.

“Man you alright?” My head moved from side to side as the person made another swift kick to my leg.

“Uh, yeah,” I moaned with restlessness all over my face. The mystery person bent down and looked me in the eyes.

“You pretty messed up, huh?”

Laughing is disbelief, “You have no idea.” The boy in the bathroom helped me up to my feet; I was taller than he was, so it was a little awkward and uneven at first but it worked out.

“Anansi,” he said.

“Matthew,” I replied smiling at his act of kindness. We parked ourselves on top of a bench outside; I needed fresh air inside my polluted body and when I got a whiff of the beautiful scent, I felt reborn in some weird way. I realized that Anansi was in my group, and he didn’t say much, the only thing he did was listen, and to be honest I thought that was harder than talking about the fucked things we did in our broken lives. I started feeling distant again, but deep down I just needed to vent.

I licked my dry lips and said, “Thank you…you know, back there.” He half smiled and nodded, fixing the beanie on his head pulling it further down, almost hiding his eyes. I understood completely, I hated making eye contact with people too because that meant opening a door and talking, letting people into a hidden life. Nobody had ever helped me while I was down but Anansi did. I liked being around him, for someone who didn’t talk a lot, I felt the urge to say something, so he could understand me a little better. The Matthew Gratis now, not the fucked up one in the bathroom he saw.

Heroin detoxification was tearing me apart, living in an addict’s body was useless – I felt useless. Anansi and I talked a lot that evening, we talked about how addiction was controlling our lives and how we both were and are too stubborn to let go, but I didn’t want that anymore. Anansi softly called out in a quiet way that reached out to me, and in some way, I reached out to him. We understood each other’s pain and misfortunes. Through the silence, he got through to me and I needed that.

“I think I’m ready to tell my story now.”