Silver Isn't a Real Color

Hours passed and Victoria didn’t budge. Her body still taking in the high, around noon she finally woke up. Her nose felt swollen but she still felt like she was flying. She felt around the bed for that familiar body to comfort her but he was nowhere to be found. “Work,” she growled to herself. Lazily, she rolled over and grabbed her purse again to check her cell phone. There she saw eighteen missed calls, all from her father. Then, as she was holding the phone it began vibrating again. She kicked at the air in frustration and angrily answered the phone. “What?!”

“Vicky. It’s your father,” a deep and calm voice stated.

“I know. What do you want?”

“Your mother and I were worried sick last night. Where are you?”

“None of your business.”

“Vicky,” he sounded as if he were about to burst. “Stop being so damn disrespectful all of the time.”

“Whatever.”

He sighed heavily. “At least have the decency to tell me what you were so busy doing that you couldn’t come home or bother to call us.”

“Well, father, if you really want to know. I was getting fucked last night.”

“Victoria!” he shouted. “Watch your goddamn mouth!”

“Get your dick out of your ass.”

“Young lady. Get your ass over here in the next hour or I’m going to—”

“Gonna what, dad? Kick my ass?”

“I’m going to call the police.”

“Okay then. Chow!” and she hung up and turned off the phone.

She pulled on the clothes that she had on from the previous day and collected the objects that River and her had used earlier that morning. She used the mirror to reapply her eyeliner and mascara. Using her fingers as a comb, she took out the tangles in her hair and tied it back into a pony tail. Afterwards, she wrapped and secured the items and tucked them safely away in her bag. She stood and stretched and headed out of the door to go to the bookstore.

The sun was perfect that day. Shining in a pale orange, it felt warm and smooth on her skin. On the way there Victoria noticed the smallest things, caterpillars in the grass, fluttering butterflies, large beetles stuck in the cracks of the concrete. They all brought her some kind of enjoyment for some reason. Just the looks of things.

When she arrived at the store there was a sign on the door that said, “Closed for lunch. Back in an hour” with a small paper clock that showed when the store would be opening again at 1:30. She banged on the door for a few moments until a familiar face answered and unlocked the door. After letting her inside and unlocking the door back, River said, “I thought you were some crazy customer that was trying to get me before I started lunch.”

“Not quiet,” she giggled. They went into the back room where River had already set up his lunch. A ham sandwich with a bag of chips and a drink. “How cute,” she laughed. There was a radio that sat on the same table that was playing a mix CD that he had made. River sat at the table and Victoria came up behind him and rubbed his shoulders. “Last night was… beautiful,” she whispered in his ear.

He brought his hands up to touch her face. “You’re beautiful,” he replied.

“I brought us a little something.”

“What?” he asked, eyes closed. She took out the drugs from her bag and placed them gently atop the table as if handling precious jewels. “Victoria,” he stated. “You shouldn’t do it that often.”

“You shouldn’t do it at all, but if you’re going to, might as well go full force.” He sighed and a worried look crossed his face. She softly kissed his lips. “River. Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. I want to feel good again.” Her eyes locked his into a sort of trance. “Teach me how to cut.”

“Okay. I’ll teach you the basics only because I don’t want you to do something stupid and end up killing yourself.” She smiled, eyes large with anticipation. “First of all, this is heroin, in case you were thinking it was coke. Coke is overrated and it doesn’t feel nearly as good. A lot of heroin is only four to twenty percent pure. That stuff is dark. Not good. This right here is about seventy-five percent pure because I know a guy who knows a guy. Anyway. You use the sharpest razor you can find, don’t get lazy because it’ll get stuck in your nose if the grains are too big. Cut it until it’s soft like powdered sugar. You don’t want it thick. And always cut on a clean, non-chipping mirror. Never snort a line longer than three inches until you’ve been doing it awhile. Simple stuff. The problem with druggies is that they get lazy and careless. They end up dead or in jail. Also, don’t ever inject this stuff. It messes up your veins and no smart employer is going to hire a person with tracks on their arms.” He paused to take a breath. “Now you’re probably thinking, ‘I never knew that junkies gave such a shit about how they get high’. Well the answer to that is, I’m not a junkie. I don’t do this stuff because I’m addicted. I do it for fun or when I’m bored or if I want to make sex feel better.”

“It makes sex feel better?”

“It makes normally terrible sex feel like heaven.” Victoria raised her eyebrows. “All I ask is that you don’t get hooked. Can you promise me that?”

“I promise.”

He took the bag and sprinkled a small amount onto the mirror. “I don’t want any,” he stated. “So cut your own.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yeah, go for it.” She grabbed the razor and began cutting the white powder. “Do it slower and cut all the way through,” he commanded. She looked at him with eyes that begged for help. He took control of her hand with his and demonstrated how to properly cut the drug. “Now put it in a line and it’s all yours.” She formed a line and grinned widely at him when she was done. He smiled back and pulled her hair behind her head and held it in his hand as she bent down to sniff the line. The second time wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as the first and she lost control of her body for a split moment afterwards. River held her limb body in one arm and cleared of the table, minus the radio, with the other. He laid her down on the table with her head right next to the speakers of the radio and her body moved rhythmically to the music.

I like a girl with caked up makeup.
In the sunshine smoking cigarettes to pass the time.
Who wakes up to a bottle of wine on the nightstand.
Bites and scratches the blinds.

“Kiss me, River,” she growled and pulled him on top of her. She wrapped her legs tightly around him and began viciously pulling off their clothes. The music playing seemed to give order to their chaos. Sweat began rolling off of her brow and she moaned, “Now.” He quickly obeyed her commands and took her again. Her heart pounded in her ears and everything distorted into a vague but beautiful pond of silver.

And thinks it's really funny when her nose goes bloody
‘Cause the blow so yummy and it keeps her tummy empty.
And makes her act more friendly.
Dance the night away.

“River?” she asked in a voice slow low he almost didn’t hear her and so close to his ear that it tickled the inside of his head.

“Victoria?” he responded.

“Do you love me?”

He held her even closer and placed the softest kiss on her forehead. “Yes.”

She sniffled and whimpered, “When I’m with you I feel like I’ll never fall.”

“You won’t.”