Reaper's Lullaby

Lucas: OD

"The body shuts down when it has too much to bear; goes its own way quietly inside, waiting for a better time, leaving you numb and half alive."
- Jeanette Winterson

Lucas drove Nora's Mustang fast on the way to the party, weaving in and out of lanes and narrowly missing the front bumpers of the vehicles behind him, their brakes screeching and horns blaring. Nora didn't say anything, though Lucas knew she could sense that something was wrong. It was only when he spotted a cop car up ahead that he pressed hard on the brake, and Nora breathed a soft sigh of relief.

"What's wrong, baby?" Nora asked, turning down the radio.

Lucas felt like he woke up suddenly at the sound of her voice, the same thing that happened when he was on the nod, but he wasn't high now. They were low on cash, out of dope and desperate for more, which was the whole reason they were going to this party tonight.

"I need a fuckin' fix," he mumbled.

"Are you sick?"

"Not yet, but I know I will be soon. Plus I just feel like shit."

"Why?" Nora asked.

Lucas sighed deeply and shook his head. He started to speed up again, but Nora put her hand over his and the thought of putting her in further danger made him ease up on the gas.

"It's a long, long story that ends with Brian destroying my guitar," he said.

Nora gasped. "He didn't."

"Yep. He definitely did. It's basically dust now."

"I'm sorry. I can't imagine what you must feel," she said, kissing his hand.

Lucas shrugged. "I won't feel anything in a few hours. As long as we can get more."

"There's more to this isn't there?" Nora asked, looking at him scrutinizingly.

She could always see right through him. Lucas hated it. She knew what that guitar had meant to him, more importantly... what it had symbolized.

"All you need to know is that everything's gonna be okay," Lucas said, and he glanced over and smiled at her, trying hard to look like his old self.

"Remember, murder is still a felony," she joked.

"I'm not gonna kill Brian. I'd love to have the privilege, but..."

Lucas's voice trailed off as they approached the party address. A long line of cars stretched up to a big brick house on a lonely hill. The upscale suburban neighborhood was near Jack's dorm.

"Wow. Look at that house," Lucas said softly.

"We're bound to find some decent dope in there," Nora replied.

They could hear the thumping bass all the way down the street where they parked. Once inside, they were surrounded by people in Halloween costumes laughing, drinking, and making out. A cloud of cigarette and pot smoke lingered in the air and made everything hazy. A couple of girls skimpily dressed like fairies flitted past them, and Nora glanced at Lucas to see if he was checking them out, but he kept his gaze singular, focused. Tonight really was about the dope.

Together they walked into the crowded living room, the bass from the music sending vibrations up their legs through the floor.

"Let's split the room. I'll get that side and you get the other. Look for anyone who's blazed," Lucas said.

They parted ways and Lucas didn't have to wait long before finding a target. This scruffy college kid looked like he hadn't been sober once in the last five years. His bloodshot eyes and pinprick pupils gave him away.

"I have something better than smack. It's China white," said the kid when Lucas told him what he was looking for. As he spoke he handed over a tiny ball of cellophane.

"What's in it?" Lucas asked suspiciously, turning the ball over in his hand.

"Nothing weird. It's just pure. Powerful stuff."

"Twenty bucks for this?" Lucas held up the bindle, which was the size of a pencil eraser.

"Yeah. That's worth three times as much as the normal stuff. It's a good deal. Take it or leave it."

Lucas looked over his shoulder for Nora but didn't see her. She wouldn't want him buying something he wasn't familiar with, especially this puny amount, barely enough for a single hit. They were supposed to share whatever they scored tonight, but he desperately needed to feel numb. That desperation overrode everything else. He paid the kid and then slipped into an empty upstairs bathroom.

The bindle was so small Lucas didn't think twice about shooting the whole thing. He didn't think it would get him very high. As soon as he did, though, he knew he had made a big mistake.

It was hard to panic even though he knew he was overdosing. Everything felt so peaceful and slow it didn't seem like an emergency. In the background, muffled like a voice calling in a snowstorm, his brain was screaming at him to stay awake, walk around, keep moving and not fall asleep. Lucas tried and failed to stand up.

Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a second... he would feel so much better. He was so very sleepy. If he closed them for a second he was sure he could get up and walk this off afterwards. He did, and he had to work hard to open his eyelids again, like they were a heavy door that had jammed. It hadn't been a good idea. He knew if he closed his eyes one more time, he was dead.

The fight to stay awake was taking all his energy and focus. It was like holding up a heavy weight, long past the point of shaking muscles on the edge of collapse. At some point, he couldn't do it anymore. He wasn't sure when that moment was. The last thing he saw was the bathroom ceiling, strange patterns criss-crossing the length of it as his brain muddled dreams and reality. Then a swarm of darkness and silence. In that silence he thought he heard Nora's voice, but he couldn't hold onto it. Just like he couldn't hold onto consciousness.