The Closet Is Made Of All Kinds Of Wood

Chapter Five - Experiences

Lilly's Perspective

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I walk through the front door of my two storey home only to be met by my arguing parents who don't seem to notice I am there. Great. And apparently they're having a screaming match over me. Even better.

"It's your fault she's a gay," My mother screeches at my father. "If you hadn't let her be such a boy growing up, Lilly wouldn't be like this!" She points in my father's face, and he stares her down angrily with his deep, grey eyes. They are both wearing bed clothes despite the fact that it is nearly four o'clock in the afternoon. My mother's short blonde hair is tousled, like she'd been running her hands through it, and she is bright pink with what I can only assume was anger.

"How dare you speak to me how that way? This cannot be my fault!" My father yells, his putrid face now a deeper shade of red then my mother's. "You're the woman. You should of been a good, Christian housewife and mothered her like anyone else!"

My mother recoils in disgust, and the sentence that comes out of her lips next shatters whatever remaining empathy I had for her into a million, tiny little pieces."You think I'm not embarrassed by her?"

My heart drops to the floor, and all I want to do is sink into the ground. I am viciously twitching with anger, but also whole-hearted resent.

These fights are common in my family. They started off sparse, but have slowly become more prevalent. Parent versus parent, both criticising the other's parenting techniques, with it usually ending with my father sleeping on the couch for a week.

I stand awkwardly in the hallway, staring into the living room, waiting for one of the adults who was supposed to love and care for me unconditionally to actually notice my presence. After a solid five minutes of them bickering, with zero recognition of my existence, I stomp up the stairs to my bedroom, slamming the door on the way in.

Violently dumping my dirty school bag on the floor, I march towards my shelf and put the loudest CD I own on my stereo, if only to temporarily block out the sounds of the ever present bickering from my parents. The hard guitar riffs and the steady drum balance me momentarily, before the dark butt that constantly rests above me descends again.

Why did it have to be me? Why was I the gay one?

Usually when I become entranced in a mood such as this, I will talk to Lexi, but I have to tread very carefully with her right now. We had had an argument over my decision to accept the heroin that Charlie offered us, and yesterday, she announced to me that she had lost all feelings for Ethan and was now dating Matt. I really don't understand what goes on in that girl's head, and have no interest in finding out.

That reminds me.

How did the fuck did I forget?

The heroin.

I scrambled towards my school bag, unzipping it as quickly as I could, trying to shove past the miscellaneous belongings I kept in there. Reaching for the large plastic container that held the three syringes, I mentally punch myself in the head. I had been carrying this around in my school bag for the past four days. Shit! What if someone had seen?

Where in the fucking world did I think I was I going to keep heroin filled syringes anyway? I can't keep them here, at home, because I bloody know my stupid mother searches my stuff. School is a no as well, and there is absolutely no way that my 'best friend' Lexi will hold them for me.

As I calm my self down from the heightened anxiety, a small smirk ever so slightly creeps across my face. I know where to put the heroin.

In me.

There was a reason I paid Charlie Joy $50 for something that could get me arrested, right? I didn't buy the drug so that I could carry the syringes in secret, panicking inside whenever someone touches my bag.

I bought them so that I could have a little fun. I mean, there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. And since I bought them to have a little fun when the time was right, what better time than now?

I slowly stand up, lock the door, and sit back down on my bed. I open the clasp on the plastic container, and clutch one of the needles. I'm almost giddy with excitement. I'm about to have control. No, I already have control. I look around my room, and find only comfort. My duvet, soft as ever. Mounds of pillows. Headbanging music playing at an almost deafening tone. And best of all: no people. I don't have to think about the kidnappings; I don't have to watch my language in front of an overbearing Lexi; I don't have to listen to my mother complain about her upper middle class life problems; I don't have to do anything I don't want to.

I pull the rubber stopper from the syringe, and find an adequate vein on my right forearm. A small voice inside my head tells me not to shoot up alone, but I've taken other drugs before, so I know what I'm doing. But weed was too simple for me, taking my mind off of things for an hour at best, and ecstacy taking away all of my dignity, getting me to do things I wouldn't normally do.

I find an appropriate vein, and I try not to flex my arm as I push the sharp tip of the needle in. Maybe I should only put half in, I think as squeeze the plunger, but by then it's too late, and all of the brown liquid is flowing through my veins. And I can feel it.

I forget all my troubles as my dark, depressive sadness is replaced with all I can describe as not quite pure bliss, but a mellow, chill happy.

I lay down on the top of my bed, and the world is like a dream as the music from before dances around me. I can almost smell it.

The drug is strong, but it isn't overwhelming, and after an hour, I feel like I am literally kissing god. The euphoria leaves me in a state of shock, because I am shining bright, and because this is one of the first times in a while I have actually felt true pleasure.

I feel safe, I feel warm, and that is all I could ask of a drug. To deliver something no one else has. The security is nice while it lasts, and when it ends, I enter the dreamy, floating state once again.

This world is one I never want to leave.

I think of my friends, and wonder about what they might be doing right this second. Lexi is probably making out with Matt, maybe planning another one of her stupid parties were I always get absolutely blind drunk. Abbey is definitely doing something cute, like writing in a diary, or brushing her gorgeous curls, or doing her homework, or really anything, because everything she does is fucking cute. I heard she got in a fight with Ethan Richards this afternoon. What a fucking hottie.

I think of my other friends, and I think of the epic high that they are missing out on. But who needs them when I have heroin?

I am awake for another few hours, before the drug begins to wear off and I drift towards sleep. I want the feeling to last forever, but I need to be completely sober when go to school tomorrow,  so that Lexi will take me seriously when I offer some of this nectar and so she won't treat me like a drugged up shit head.

Sleep comes easy, and I think its because for once I'm not using it as an escape, and merely a state of being.

Mixed with heroin, my dreams are filled with everything from nightmarish images of my father hitting my mother, to long, lip biting, hairpulling kisses with Abby. Unfortunately, the latter is but a sad fabrication, the former a harsh reality.

*

When I awake in the morning, I am ready to face the day, with no adverse side effects to the drug, save a small headache that I attribute to a bad dream. I feel good - albeit nowhere near as good as last night - but am I am nevertheless refreshed.

As I get ready for the long school day ahead, I make plans to speak with Charlie about how to hook up some more heroin. I have two more doses, but knowing me, that won't last long. While I bathe in the remnants of last night's euphoria, I also make a small plan to sidle up to Abby and see what's up with her. Maybe today is the day?

Neither of my parents are home, and I eat breakfast in a comfortable silence.

When I exit the house I am forced to call home, I smile to myself reassuringly. Today is gonna be a fucking great day.