BLACK ROSE

The devil on the shoulder

Alex. 

Movies and stereotypical tv shows portray jocks as extremely self–obsessed and narcissistic, players and only interested in their scholarships. I'd lie if I'd say it's a lie and they're the exact opposite. Sadly I can confirm a number of jocks with these personality traits, though I can confirm most of them aren't like that. Movie creators didn't really paint them in the best light, that's sure to say.

One thing that fascinates me about one particular group of jocks at our school is their ability and patience to stare at themselves in the mirror. They break the international theory that women spend more time in front of the mirror than men. I believe there has to be a rational explanation to why they're like this. Although the more I listen to their conversations, the less sure I'm getting.

This day is dragging itself like it's never planning on coming to an end. It feels as if every second that passes, the time doesn't go forward, but backwards. It's only the end of third period, but it already feels as if school hasn't even started yet.

"Alex," someone calls my name. I stop in my tracks, the bag swung over my shoulder and sigh. But I turn around and wait for whoever wishes my attention to walk up to me.

One of the jocks is walking towards me. Maybe under different circumstances we could develop a relationship on more friendly terms. He's not a bad guy, he's even got the brains. However our relationship is strictly built on business, there's no room for a close friendship.

He looks around multiple times, probably making sure no one's looking our way and listening to our conversation, but I can assure him no one is.

"Can you give me some more!?" he asks.

I widen my eyes and blink rapidly. I catch Ace coughing in the back, obviously eavesdropping to our conversation.

Had he already used what I gave him three days ago? He told me to give him extra for a big party, and I did. I didn't question his intention, though he did add it was a family gathering. Of the whole family, to specify. I understood his situation – he probably needed something to loosen his nerves in order to survive. I realise I should see an opportunity in this, and though I'm not a fan of his lifestyle, I do. Yet I know the consequences, and those consequences could get me in serious trouble. There's always a chance of my customers overdosing, but I'm very alert when it comes to high school students, especially from my school. If he, hypothetically speaking, happened to want the whole dose for himself and would overdose and die, someone could find a connection to me. I always make sure nothing leads the way to me, but I can't assure no student saying they've never seen us exchange words. I'm always careful, but people walk around, and you can never be sure who's secretly spying on you. If my little business would be in danger, so would I. And that would essentially put AJ and Cal in a dangerous position as well. I have to think mostly about myself, and for that reason, this is a big risk.

"Are you insane?" I whisper yell. I am afraid that if I said it in a normal voice, it would turn into a high pitched yell.

He looks around again. And I was thinking I'm the paranoid one.

"I need it man." He swallows hard.

"I gave you double three days ago."

"I know," he lowers his voice and continues. "But I need more."

"Have you already used all I gave you?"

I honestly don't even know what I want him to answer. I might be a dealer, but the sight of teenagers in my age being addicted never pleases me. What's happening in his life is none of my business, but I don't want to hear an announcement a few days later that he died.

"No, not yet." I look at him with raised eyebrows. "But I will need, very soon."

"I'll give you some when you run out," with these words I leave. Ace follows after me, mumbling something inaudible under his breath.

********

I walk into the art room and instantly regret it. It's just one lesson every two weeks, yet I still haven't found my way to like it. I consider turning around and leaving, but when I spot Ace in the back, grinning at me, I roll my eyes and make my way to him. The bell rings right when I sit down, but the classroom is mostly empty. It's a silent agreement made between us and the teacher that coming five minutes late is completely fine.

Ace connects his headphones to mine and puts the album he's been obsessed with lately on shuffle. Hot Chelle Rae, of course. I don't pay much attention to the music, forcing myself to think about everything else but the composition and lyrics. When their song 'Too Much' echoes in my ears, I mentally freeze. The lyrics are like a ghost from the far past you wish to never meet again.

The two first lines keep on playing on and on in my head.

Bad habits make all the best friends

Won't leave me alone in my head

I look at Ace and just think to myself how true they are. Bad habits really do make the best friends, and this band is the perfect example. A part of me wishes to be able to hate this band and every song they ever release, but the other cannot. Through the pain, the comfort wins.

********

I stare at the guitar and close my eyes. Tilting my head slightly to the right, I reach out for it. Ace might've unlocked something in me today. I don't waste a second to play – play a song I've feared for years. I let go of the fear. I let my fingers run up and down the neck, at the same speed they used to. I feel a strange excitement I haven't felt for years.

They say that when you feel a song, it can be heard through your playing. Your emotions are translated into every stroke. And then the sickening wave of everything and nothing comes. It makes me sick; it makes me want to do things I shouldn't. A devil on my right shoulder and an angle on my left are fighting.

When my parents come home, I don't let them in my room. I listened to the devil and forgot about the angel. Right now, I need to let the devil out.