The Fix

I was getting desperate; the fix was crucial. It had been days since I had a hit, and I was hooked at this point. So I did what any normal, sane person would do: find some sketchy guys in a sketchy alleyway and ask them for some money. Except in this situation, I was not a normal, sane person. As a matter of fact, I was pretty bonkers at this point. You see, when your mom has cancer and your sister wants to kill herself, you find your own ways to cope. Unlike my sister, I was not cutting my arms; I was out on the street getting high off my ass. Well, it didn't start off like that. I had a good job; I was making the right income to try and support mom. All the medications that came with her cancer had their own price, and it wasn't just her hair. In the course of time, the medical bills kept piling up, and my paychecks kept disappearing. I didn’t really see the point anymore. And yeah, I felt awful for leaving Mom and Carly in the situation that I did, but I just couldn't do it anymore. I left home, started living in my car, and did everything I could to find a fix as often as possible. Fast forward to now, and these guys are looking for their fix too. I borrowed their drug money for my drugs. I can't pay it back, so here we are. I have to make a decision, so I tell them to take my pinkie. They oblige, but take my pointer too! I scream in agony; this is the worst pain I think I've felt in my life. In the nick of time, the sirens come. I look up and see a girl with a phone to her ear in a window, looking down on me. I wink at her, thankful for her existence at this moment. They run, scattering like roaches. Thinking of the white power in my pocket, I run too. I run until my legs are aching and I can’t catch my breath.