Scratched

Forty Two

FORTY TWO

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I leaned against the cold hard sink. My eyes fixed onto the reflection before me—my reflection. The image shown before me was foreign. It wasn't anyone who was familiar to me. The girl before me had dark circles under her eyes as if she hadn't slept in days. Her once wild, lively hair hang loose. Her eyes which had once been sharp and observant were distance and undefined. And as I studied my reflection a thought occurred to me.

Maybe Reed had been right.

Looking at myself now I could almost believe him. Days had passed, and I had done very little other than get high one way or another. If you'd asked me what shows I had done, and where I had been the night before I couldn't very well tell you. This was the person I was now, and I found that I still felt displaced like I was floating further and further away. I was no closer to being the person I so desperately wanted to be. If anything that person was even more distant.

I ran a hand through my hair, pushing my hair out of my face. I tore my eyes away from the mirror, looking down at the sink. I pulled my hand away from the edge, grabbing a razor. I cut out a line, depositing the razor beside the knobs of the sink. With one last fleeting glance in the mirror I leaned down, snorting the line. I tilted my head back, feeling rushing over me. It was that feeling that I found so hard to steer away from. How could something so good be bad?

My eyes drifted back to the mirror, studying my reflection once more. My gaze ran over my hair, my skin, my eyes, my face before finally resting. I caught sight of the white powder on my face. I swiped at it, trying to erase it from myself. I stumbled away from the sink, not wanting to look at myself any longer. It was then that I heard a knock at the door. I jumped, my eyes shooting to the door. "Are you okay, Piper?" Ian's voice asked through the door.

I whipped at my face once more before pulling the door open. Ian's eyes met mine, and I was sure I caught recognition in their depths. He knew. I was pretty sure everyone knew. Reed hadn't entertained that he had ended my habits when he'd flushed them down the toilet. He knew just as well as everyone else that it was temporary at best. If there was anything easier to get in the world it was illegal items. They were easier to obtain than a goddamn gun. So I had gotten my drugs.

"I'm great!" I said slowly.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

I ignored him, shoving passed him. I started towards the stage. The sound of cheering surrounded me. I stumbled, catching myself before I could fall. With one last breath I stepped out onto stage. The light struck out at me, blinding me temporarily. I squinted, trying to get my barrings. I staggered to the microphone, gripping it in my hands. I leaned in, flashing a smile at the crowd. "I think I'll mix it up a little," I announced to the crowd.

And then I started to sing. "She's not a girl who missed much. Do-do-do-do-do, oh yeah. She's well acquainted with the touch of a velvet hand, like a lizard on a window pane," I sang, moving to the music. "Man in the crowd with the multicoloured mirrors on his hobnail boots. Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy working overtime. The soap impression of his wife which he ate, and donated to the National Trust."

The music started to pick up, and by this point the only reason I could think to keep the song going was because I knew it so well. I let my eyes close, and images passed in the darkness. I see myself sitting in the floor at home with Rhett, and then I'm in a car driving with Reed with smoke rolling around us. "I need a fix 'cause I'm going down. Down to the bits that I've left up town. I need a fix 'cause I'm going down," I sang, slightly slurring the words. "Mother Superior jumped the gun, Mother Superior jumped the gun, Mother Superior jumped the gun."

I swayed, nearly losing balance, and then another image flashes by. I'm lying beside Reed, talking about life and music and everything while I blow a ring of smoke into the air. It swirled around me, taking me away with it. Away to a much darker place. Callum presses handful of pills into my hand, assuring me and I believe him. "Happiness is a warm gun—bang bang, shoot shoot. Happiness is a warm gun, yes it is. Bang bang, shoot  shoot." My vision blurs and my stomach turns, and then Callum is holding out a pipe. I can see it, smell it, feel it. All so real, but the song keeps playing.

"When I hold you in my arms,oh yes. When I feel my finger on your trigger, oh yes. I know nobody can do me no harm," I continued, my words getting even more slurred. I stumbled, gripping the microphone. "Because happiness is a warm gun, momma. Happiness is a warm gun, yes it is. Happiness is a warm, yes it is..." The world spun, and I had the distinct feeling of doom. It shot through me, seizing me. I gripped the microphone, feeling my band's eyes on me. And then the world flipped. I stumbled back from the microphone. I wanted to run. Run as far and as fast as I could. But then I buckled, wrapping an arm around my center.

I felt the dread strike me, and then I puked. It was done and over before I could even process it. The stadium had gone deadly silent. My eyes wandered up and for the first time I could make out individuals in the crowd, and they were all staring at me in the very same way. The world crashed down around me, and I did the only thing I could. I ran. I ran off stage, stumbling into a wall. My vision was blurring and my movements were becoming more and more heavy.

Everything slowed down. I could hear voices yelling, calling my name. I saw figures running at me, but everything was tilting. My very vision seemed to be melting away, distorting the world around me. I felt my stomach seize again, and I had a few seconds of panic as everything started to fall away. The floor was ripped out from under me, and then I was crashing down. I saw faces and smelt the distinctive smell of vomit before the world dropped out. And then I saw nothing at all.

* * * AUTHOR'S NOTE * * *

The shit has hit the fan. This is the official low point. So we are closing in now. And the song is clearly Happiness is a Warm Gun by the Beatles. :) I attached a video if you're interested. It's a good song. I'm sure more than a few have heard it before. And comment and vote!