¶𝗥𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗕𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗼𝗺 [H.S]

1.4

That night I experienced the walk of shame once again. By the time I got home all of the water from my soaked pajama set slowly went down my legs and into my sneakers. Wet socks were my worst nightmare, and I had to feel them every time I took a step closer to home. But worse than that was that they reminded me of him. And he was what I hated more than wet socks right now.

I was frustrated, cold, soaking wet, and uncomfortable. That night wasn't what I wanted to waste my Chrystals on. But then I didn't want to waste them on anything. Nothing I did felt like the perfect time to get a little freaky. I was down most of the time with no appetite, always zoning out and not really in the frame of mind for talks. It wasn't because I forgot about the drugs, no, if anything I brought them around with me. No matter if we were having breakfast, I was taking a shower, or trying to revise. They were always somewhere as deep in my pocket as buried in my unconscious.

And I was low that week, maybe that was the perfect time to take them and start the next day with the will .o live? But I never did it, I wasn't worse enough to waste them on a day that I wasn't feeling like having breakfast or something. I knew I was going to need them sooner but not now when I felt as if all eyes were on me at home. Not when I knew with one wrong move I was going to be packaged and fled back to the rehabilitation center. I couldn't risk falling flat on my face again.

Well, I could take them and make my day better but then again, I knew I'd have to call his number again. And I don't want to. There would be a moment in my life, like next month or a week after exams, that it would be worth taking them but not now. And even though I had that straight, I couldn't stop thinking about them.

They were always on my mind and I wanted to take them just so I can have a piece of silence. But I couldn't, because if I did I was probably going to get caught. My friends' numbers were already gone from my phone when I came back. And they were the only ones that I could take drugs with without having to worry if someone familiar was around because we didn't know each other. We didn't talk about personal topics or invited each other over. We hanged out just for that reason - we didn't care about who we were, where we came from, or what anyone else would think about us.

But then again Liam had a point in making our little group fall apart. After every time we met at our spot I was too high to even notice something different, it was the day after when the realization I was picked pocked hit.

Even if I wanted to hang out with them, I wouldn't. I'd rather take some Adderall in my bathroom than Xanny in a basement with thieves. And the fact that there was so little I could remember of what had happened was another reason to call the police instead of saying Hi when I ran into them. I was done with them.

Though, that meant that I didn't have a secret space to take them. Let's not even talk about how I didn't trust myself alone. I wanted to have a good time not kill myself.

With the plastic bag on my mind and the desire to take them, the week slipped from my hands. It was wasted, me on the other hand - not even slightly. Another day, another star sticker on my calendar for staying clean. And I talked about how bad and unproductive my week was so let's talk about something much more positive, not my drug test, but my strong will. How many drug addicts do you know that will have some medicine in their hand and wouldn't even have a quick lick? That's right, me.

If I could I would have taken them, but I had to figure out a safe spot, people I can trust, and an excuse to go out.

''Come in,'' I said pulling down my tank top.

Even though I rathered staying home during this depressing episode of my life, I couldn't delay my social life any longer. If I locked myself in my room for one more day, people would start suspecting stuff that I couldn't even bring myself to do. And if I had to get caught, at least let it be for something I did.