And I Thought Everything Was Going To Be Alright

Chapter Thirteen - Blake's Point Of View

I walked over to Adam's bed slowly, trying to stop myself from crying. But it didn't work. As soon as I saw his bong next to the bed I lost it. Tears streamed down my face.

The room smelt like Adam. Like his stupid deodorant that never covered up the smell of weed on his clothes. The room also wreaked of weed.

I crawled into his bed and wrapped my arms around his pillow. I never thought that the near death of one of my friends would make me this emotional. After all he was still alive.

But he had tried to kill himself because of me. It was my fault. I was going to beat myself up about this. He had wanted to be with me, but I had been dead. This wasn't fair. I'm back now, and he's in hospital.

I rolled over and my head rested on his other pillow. "Ow!" I said. It was hard. His pillow was hard. Something was underneath it. I reached under his pillow, and I found a box. I opened the box and found a few needles. Needles. Syringes. No. He didn't. He couldn't have.

Adam had taken heroin. There was none left in the box. No trace of heroin at all. There was just his syringes. Just the syringes.

I felt a tears run down my face. He had tried to overdose on heroin...

How could he do this? Why would he do this? What was the point? Heroin was a strong drug, and it certainly wasn't a drug to be messed with. Adam knew that. We all knew that.

Adam shouldn't have taken it. He was frail enough as it was from smoking weed. Injecting heroin was another thing.

I shut the box and threw it at the wall angrily, breaking the box in two, leaving all the syringes to spill all over the floor. I had a sudden urge to shoot up myself, but then decided against it. There was no use putting myself in danger. What was done was done.

In my rage I grabbed Adam's bong and threw it at the wall also, smashing it into a million pieces. "No more drugs!" I yelled, "No more heroin! And no more marijuana! No more drugs! No more! No more fucking drugs!"

I got up and kicked the wall serval times before I punched it. "Fucking drugs! Fucking idiot!"

I was enraged and no one could calm me down. They all knew that. They all left me alone.

I kneeled down and attempted to snap the syringes, but I just couldn't do it. After going to break them several times without luck, I gave up, feel back onto my bum and just cried. I wept. And I wept.

Then I grabbed one of Adam's needles. My vision blurred and my head spun. On no. Not again. No! No!

Adam was standing there. Just standing there not moving. He moved over towards his bed, clutching the empty bottle of pills and his note in his hand. He was prepared. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and pulled out his kit from underneath his pillow. He quickly filled the syringe with heroin and swiftly injected himself. He quickly shut the box and shoved it under his pillow. Then he stood up, but he fell on the ground almost instantly. He was gone...

I felt myself coming back. I saw what had happened. I felt myself started to tear up once again, and my heart started to burn. It physically hurt. There was a deep pain. It felt like someone was clutching my heart and squeezing it so it would burst. I let out a small groan before I screamed in agony. This had never happened before. I heard a scream from the other room, and tried to crawl towards the other door, but I only moved a few metres before my vision was all black, and I fell unconscious ...