Unexpected (Ace Frehley)

coke diary

I thought day one wouldn't be that bad, but it was. He just seems to be craving it, with a fucked up look in his eyes. His hands in his hair as he looks up to the ceiling. "Ace, do you want something to drink?" He seems to focus on my words before he awnsers them. "You already know it". He gives a soft smile, as i head back to the kitchen.

I hand him the drink. "Is it only coke i have to stop doing?" I stop to think, ofcourse every adiction is bad, also alcohol, but it won't be fair if i still drink and he can't. "Well, it's now only for coke, it won't be fair if i tell you to stop drinking alcohol when i do it to". A relieved expression forms on his face as he lays back down on the couch. "But i can also stop drinken and come clean with you". "No". He says a little to quickly. "Why's that, i'd do it for you". He shakes his head, "no, i don't want to bother you with that". Yeah right Frehley, i know you longer than today. "That's not treu, is it?" "What". "I know you longer than one day, Frehley". He frowns, "i need it okay". I place my hand over his, feeling him shake. "Don't worry, you don't have to if you don't want, i'm not going to force you. Alcohol is bad, but you don't fuck up as soon as you do with drugs". He nods, as he stands up, pacing around the room. "I- i don't know if i can do it". I stand up, giving him a hug and leaning my head on his chest. "You can, you'll make it. I'm really proud of you".

To no suprise day two went worse and at the end of the day, he got sick and threw up, just like yesterday. I don't know what to do, how to help him. I just feel like i'm putting him thro hell, because i told him he has to stop. But i'm not gonna give him a bag of coke and i don't want to see him do it.

Day three went just like one and two. Sick and dizzy is how he explains it to me. I trie my best to help him, to keep his mind off of it, but everything that i do just doesn't seem to help on the moment. It's sad to see him like this, it really is. If i feel this way about him, i can't even imagine what he feels like about himself.

Day four went so to say, horrible, really horrible.

When i thought it couldn't get any worse, day five is. He's now laying on the couch, with his hands in his hair, almost pulling it out. His eyes are dazed and look like he's hasn't slept in weeks. I sit down beside him and give him a kiss on his forehead. "It'll get better". He looks at me and abrubtly stands up from the couch, looking me in my eyes. "YOU CAN KEEP SAYING THAT IT'S GONNA GET BETTER, BUT I DON'T FEEL LIKE IT IS. I FEEL LIKE I'M FUCKING DYING". "I'm trying to help you Ace". My voice shaking. "NO, YOU ARE NOT IN MY SHOES, SO STAY THE FUCK OUT OF IT, FUCK YOU SAVANNA". With that he walks out of the door, slamming it shut. Tears well up in my eyes. "Fine if that's what you want". I whisper to no one. "IF YOU DON'T WANT TO FUCKING GET CLEAN". The only thing i want to do is help you get better, but apperently you don't want to get fucking better and i can't help you. Go live the fucking life you want, be a fucking junkie. I pull my knees into my chest, letting out a deep breath. I just want to help him, i guess my help isn't enough. I walk to the kitchen, picking up my bestfriend, vodka. I don't feel bad at all, i just can't handle being yelled at. I know what i do is right, and if he can't handle getting help, than fuck him. I take a sip of vodka, emediatly feeling better. Now i regret it, i'm no better than him. Everytime my life sucks, i drink, i take another sip, not being able to stop. I guess it was all for nothing. I don't hate him, how can i, it's part of getting clean. Why am i saying this to myself. He's going thro some shit. I can't be a bitch about this. He needs some support. I sigh, leaning my head back against the kitchen counter. It'll get better, give it some time, give it some time.

I lay in bed, not being able to fall asleep. Everything is spinning, partly because i'm drunk and partly because i'm losing it. Just like the last couple of months, i feel dead and empty inside, i hear voices in my head and they wont shut up. They're not saying anything, they're just groaning like they're in pain. I feel like i'm going insane. I squeeze my eyes shut and cover my ears with my hands, hoping it all stops and there's complete silence. There is, but not downstairs. I hear glass breaking. Ace what the fuck are you doing, i know you're high out of your mind probaply, but what the fuck. Faint footsteps come from downstairs, as they crawl up the stairs, but they don't sound like the footsteps of someone who's drunk. The noice moves infront of the door, there's no time left to do something. The only option is to pretend to be asleep. The door opens and my eyes shut. Footsteps infront of my bed, as i hear the breathing of the person. I'm not really that afraid, it's the adrenaline. Every second that passes i feel my heart stop. I don't care if i'll die, so i can't care less, right? The silence grows so loud, until i hear the front door open. Shit. Shit. Shit. If Ace is drunk he'll be fucked. I hear the footsteps going downstairs and i stand up, grabbing my basball bat from next to the dresser. I hear Ace downstairs, heading to the kitchen. I follow the other person down the stairs as quiet as i can. My hands shake as he walks into the kitchen, me right behing him. When he faces the other way, i take a swing with the bat, trying to stop myself as i notice Peter standing in the kitchen, but it's to late, i hit him. He falls to the floor. "SAVANNA, WAT THE FUCK, THAT'S ACE". The blood drains from my face, as i look at who i hit. "Shit, shit, shit". I throw the bat to the side and bend down to Ace, his head bleeding. "Oh no, Peter, call an ambulance". He stands with his hands on his head as he runs to the phone. "I need an ambulance". Everything turns to a blur as he explains the adress and i trie my best to stop the blood. "Shit, Ace, i'm so sorry". His eyes faintly open and close again. "No, Ace keep your eyes open, please". The guilt filling inside of me. I just hit my fucking boyfriend. What if i kill him. "They're on their way, we need to stop the bleeding". "I'm trying, Peter". He hands me another towel as i switch them. "Why the fuck did you hit him?" His hands in his hair, freaking out. "I thought it was a robber or something". Tears going down my cheecks at this point. "Oh fuck, Savanna".