PULLING TEETH {Billie Joe Armstrong)

🖤 One 🖤

I slipped back into reality slowly, the heroin wearing off. I was still under the bridge downtown, sitting slumped against the concrete pillar. Beside me, syringes that I used were strewn about.

I stood up, slowly regaining my balance, and threw up.

"Eww." I muttered, shuddering and feeling gross . The sweltering California heat made me feel even worse.

I glanced at the needles again, thinking how awful it was that I was only 16 and addicted to heroin. But how else was I supposed to put up with my life? It was either drugs or suicide to take me away.

I felt so bad about my addiction, my life, my existence. I screwed everything up.

I reached into my purse and took out the long metal blade I kept inside. I held it over my pale arms and lowered it onto my skin. Something about seeing myself do it made me feel a tiny bit better about myself. Maybe it was because I was hurting myself instead of my dad.

I watched my blood gush out of me for a bit. Once it started to dry up, I put my black hoodie back on to cover my arms.

I didn't look at anyone on the way to the train, or when I was on the train. I didn't look broken yet, or, at least I didn't think I did. But I couldn't be sure.

You see, I did like how I looked. I was pretty, not beautiful, but pretty. But I knew what heroin did to people on the outside. And I knew that if I kept doing it, it would do the same thing to me.

As I walked up my street, I noticed a moving truck parked at the house beside mine. I didn't really give it much thought, though.

I tried to open the front door, but it was locked, so I pulled out my key and opened it myself. My parents probably weren't home.

I went up to my room and stood in front of my mirror. I didn't look like a heroin addict, not yet.

I sat on my bed and dialed my friend Baz, the one who gave me heroin.

"Hey, what's up?" he said.

"Oh, hey, it's Courtney. I'm running out of heroin." I told him.

"Alright, hit me up tomorrow afternoon under the bridge. If you have time.".

"Of course I have time. See you then.".

"Alright, Courtney, see you.".

I hung up and flopped back on my bed. I turned on my radio, and Boulevard of Broken Dreams came on. My bass was just screaming my name, so I picked it up and played along. I wasn't good at much, but I felt like I was at least decent at playing bass.

***

The next morning I woke up and got ready to go downtown and meet Baz. I had a shower, did my makeup, threw on a green tank top and black denim shorts with a studded belt. And of course a hoodie; I couldn't forget that.

I came down the stairs and saw my mom flipping through a magazine, sitting in front of our portable air- conditioner.

She glanced up at me. "Why are you wearing a hoodie?" she asked, standing up. "It's sweltering out there.".

"Because I want to." I said.

"Courtney, you are so weird. Out of all the kids in the world, why did I end up with you?".

I shrugged. "I'm gonna go out, I'll be back later." I said, slipping on my shoes.

"Okay, don't get into any trouble.". My mom shoved me out the door and locked it behind me. I sighed and walked down the driveway and to the train station.

I rode through the south part of Los Angeles into downtown, where I met Baz under the bridge.

"There you are." he said in his scratchy voice. He pulled me into a hug, his hands wandering down to my ass.

"Okay, Baz, no." I said, taking a step back, knowing how fast he could go from 0 to 100.

He sighed, staring me up and down. "Fine." he sighed. For a long time, we had been friends with benefits. I was getting kind of tired of it, though. I wanted to be his girlfriend, and I eventually got tired of being used. But he had already told me he didn't want to commit to a real relationship. The only reason I was still buddies with him was because he gave me my heroin for free.

He handed me the heroin. "My mom shoved me out the door again. I've got nothing to do, so you wanna do heroin with me?" I asked.

Baz nodded and we sat in the sand and rocks under the bridge. I pulled out the heroin and loaded it into some syringes, handing one to Baz.

"Whatcha been up to lately?" he asked me. "Been a while since I've seen you.".

"Yeah." I sighed. "Uh, I've been playing bass, listening to music, and doing this, mostly.".

"Cool.".

"I feel kinda guilty 'bout it, though.".

"You don't need to. That's what summer's for, drugs and music and fun. Hell, that's what life's for!!".

"Mhm.". I mindlessly stabbed the needle into my arm, not thinking about anything else. It was all I wanted in that moment.