Jump

Chapter 1

I tapped my foot and looked at the time. Where the hell was Dylan? He was supposed to be here 30 minutes ago. I was on edge. One could say I was paranoid. I needed a fix and quick. I bit my lip as I leaned against the wall of the Tunnel. The Tunnel had become my escape, along with many others. I could hear a few people snorting some sort of substance. I looked down and saw the silhouettes of a few people huddled together. They were probably homeless junkies. I just shrugged and looked down at my dying phone. Dylan better hurry up. 

After another 15 minutes, Dylan finally walked up. His blonde hair was messy and his usually sparkled blue eyes were glazed over. I let out a breath of relief, but groaned to myself. I knew he was high. He better not have smoked my shit. I looked up at him and he grinned like an idiot.

"I'm sorry Jen, I was, um, preoccupied." He laughed and looked at me. "So a gram like usual?" He asked and reached into his pocket."

"I asked for two." I said as I watched him pull out one little bag. I could see that was all he had. "Alright fine, give me the one." I said and could feel my mouth watering already. It would only be a few more minutes. I handed him the money and he handed me the bag. I pulled out my pipe and packed a hefty bowl. I grabbed my lighter and took a massive hit.

"Eager are we?" He asked and laughed softly as I passed the pipe to him. He took a hit and passed it back. We switched off. Puff and pass has become my motto. I could already feel it hitting me. First I get a little light headed. Then my eye lids become heavy. Suddenly, I could feel every cell in my body. Every touch feels electric. My mouth gets dry, but nothing a piece of gum can't fix. One more hit and everything disappears. My family is no problem. One more hit. My father isn't cheating on my mother. Another. He isn't sleeping around. Another. I forget every time he stumbles home drunk. Final hit. I forget how he sneaks into my room when he's drunk. 

I clean out the pipe and put it back in my little bag I keep in my purse. I put eye drops in my eyes, spray perfume, and grab a piece of gum. Dylan keeps his eyes on me. He gives me the same look my father does when he's drunk. I know it's time to go before something happens. I begin to walk away, thanking Dylan softly. He just nods his head and lets me go, for now. I walk out of the Tunnel and start heading home. I have to be home by dinner or else my mother begins to question my whereabouts. I can't tell her I'm in the Tunnel getting high all day. I lie and tell her I'm studying with friends. Of course there are no friends. It's just me. No one wants to be friends with the fucked up girl. 

I walked home, listening to music. God music was so much better high. Everything was better when I was high. The higher I was, the better I felt. I felt like I was on top of the world. I looked down at my phone and saw I had a few minutes to spare. I went to my favorite spot. The roof of my apartment building. It was a 10-story building and when I sat up there, I felt like I was everything I ever wanted to be. I started going up there when I was 10, so 7 years ago. I would play fairy princess up there. I would pretend I was Rapunzel. I grew my hair out so I could feel more authentic. I miss those days. The days where the only thing I had to worry about was what I was going to eat for dinner and if I was going to be able to watch my favorite shows. 

I dangled my feet over the edge. My high was wearing off a little, so I pulled out my pipe again and made myself a small bowl. I smoked it and looked down at the people below me. They were all heading somewhere. I thought about how every person in this world is on a journey. Maybe it's not a magnificent journey, but they were going somewhere. Whether it's to their house, maybe they were on their way to meet the love of their life, or maybe they were trying to get high. 

I watched as my feet hung over the edge. I felt invincible. I felt like I could fly. I was leaning against a pillar and my father texted me. 

"Tell Mom I'm going out tonight." He said. I could feel my body tense up. Tonight I'd have to hope my dad just fell asleep on the couch. Countless times he'd stumble into my room. I'd like to think it was because he thinks I'm my mother, but he says my name. If I lock my door, I'm afraid he'll go into my little sister's room, and I couldn't stand to let him do that. Usually when he goes out, I wait for my sister to go to sleep and lock her door. I cry in silence with every thrust, every grunt, and every orgasm he has. If I try to fight it, it only gets worse. I've learned my lesson. My father has complete control over me. I guess that's why I smoke. I need to feel control for one. I control how much I smoke. How high I get. 

I looked down at the ground below me. If I jumped now, I could end it. Maybe my dad would sober up. Who am I kidding? It would only get worse. It all started when my mother had the miscarriage. She was finally having a son, and he was so happy. When it happened, my dad went straight to the bottle. Whiskey is his guilty pleasure. Him and Jack Daniels have shared many nights together. I stood up and looked over the edge. Just one more step could end it all. Just one small leap. I wish I could just jump.