The Cascading Waves of Caden Lee

24

CADEN LEE

It seems as if the days pass like mere minutes. Every second of my existence is spent in another reality; a world in which none of my problems exist.

It's like a dream, the thought of returning to before. Running down rainy highways with Ash and Joseph down to a shitty run-down 711, meeting Scarlett for the first time and feeling the swarm of butterflies erupt in my stomach; bathing my soul in warmth.

What's harder than my reality is accepting that things have changed. The past doesn't matter if you can't keep your present sane. No need to dwell on the could've beens if you're still struggling with the beens that shaped your life. It happened; deal with it.

It's not that easy.

Even though I'm not stupid, and I know if I keep this up things will only get worse, the rush of euphoria I crave seems to only grow. It spreads like a weed, infecting my garden and state of mind. To kill two birds with one stone; ruin my life and ruin my mind.

All I can think about is just giving in. I should've never stole those stupid pills in the first place, should've never took them at that party. But I did, and now I have to face the consequences of my actions.

It sucks, it really does.

Weirdly enough, I've cut down on weed more recently. I guess popping pills does that to you, you realize how mellow a simple plant compares to chemically manufactured pills.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I've moved my hiding spot. If anyone were to stumble into my room for a pair of socks they would find the bottle, i don't want that, obviously, so I moved the bottle to my bathroom cabinet. Stuffed away in the very back, hidden from the unsuspecting eye.

I clench my jaw; open my cabinet and shuffle through the mess. I've been hating my reflection more and more recently. Is it normal to want to shatter the mirror you see yourself in? Cracked and crumbled into tiny glass shards of wasted potential? I barely even want to play basketball anymore, or go to school, or get out of bed. I want to do one thing.

I don't let my mind dwell on that thought too much.

The rattling of the pills dulls my senses, the anticipation creeping into my bones. Hesitating is long gone now, It's not like im addicted, or dependent, or need these to survive or whatever. I won't anytime soon. I can control this; control myself.

I won't let it get bad like those junkies you see on the street.

I won't, seriously.

Seriously.

Two pills feel like lard as they slide down my throat, but half an hour later and they might as well have been heaven in two tiny white pills. I am floating; I am a better version of me.

There are no worries inside my mind, all I have now is the present. My past doesn't define me, nor do my actions.

All that matter is the sensation of my heavy body practically glued to my bed. My half-lidded eyelids, my loose muscles. I'll be nodding soon, asleep if I chase the temptation of letting time pass by in the dreams of bliss.

I don't enjoy sleeping through the high, it feels like a waste. But I can't deny that it feels so damn good to just succumb yourself to your dope-filled dreams.

I was right. I fall asleep only minutes later.

I chased the beast, caught it, and now I lay in bed, nearly incapable of proper human function and speech dulled down to mere murmurs of my mind. I can pass it off as sleep-talking if anyone were to ask.