Special Chapter.
And it’s even long . I’m good , I know .
I really really really like this chapter , so I hope you do tooooo . (:
WoopWooop .
One of the greatest songs to man-kind over there . --->
Everyone loves it , and if you don't , I don't apologize for saying YOU'RE FUCKING CRAZY .
*READ THIS, IT’S IMPORTANT.*
This chapter DOES have drug use in it. And it’s more serious than just Marijuana. It ALSO HAS SEX. So if you’re not comfortable with these things, skip over the part, or don’t read this at all.
Nothing too important happens; it’s just a scene from McKenz’s life. So it doesn’t matter if you do.
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This chapter was . . . a little more different to write. I’ve never done drugs like this, and I’m not Schizophrenic/Psycho. I have a few disorders, but nothing like this. So if you find this incorrect, feel free to tell me. But honestly, don’t take everything in this chapter completely serious. I did do a little bit of research, so I think I have it down, but I don’t know for sure.
This is choppy. It’s supposed to be choppy. She has problems, thank you. Nothing in her hand works the way yours does. Even if you have any of the disorders McKenz does, every person and their psychotic disabilities are different.
Look at me, talking like she’s real again. Psht.
Go for it.
I stare down at the straight snow white line on the table. My hand hovers over it with a rolled up dollar bill in my hand. I freeze, feeling something behind me. I turn around slowly, expecting someone to jump out and grab me. The only thing behind me is a dirty badly painted tan wall. I feel a whisper of a touch on my shoulder.
I turn my head quickly, looking all around me. I can feel the start of a panic attack arising. I stop completely, closing my eyes and inhaling deeply. I open my eyes and release the breath I held. I bend down and snort the line. I stand up straight, close my eyes, and massage my temples.
I can feel the drug numb my nose. I can feel it numb my eyes. I can feel it numb my face. My neck. My body. It’s of a good quality, close to pure. I wish it could numb my thoughts.
Cocaine used to give me a sense of euphoria. That’s why everyone does coke, isn’t it? You do it once, you feel the absolute pleasure of life, and then you crave more. More. More. And more. But you keep doing it, and you don’t feel the pleasure anymore. You feel the sadness, the uselessness. You feel the pain. But at that point you’re addicted, and you still want more. You hate it, you hate wanting it, but you still do it.
“Babe?” he calls to me. I turn toward his bedroom, and walk in. I feel someone behind me, following my every move. I feel their eyes on my back, staring at me. Watching me. I ignore it, and get onto the bed. He turns to me and smiles. I feel sick. “You want another round?” he asks, with a quirky little smirk.
I smile to him, pretending I want it, want him. He lifts the long white billowing shirt I wear off my anorexic body. He looks at me, hungry. I shiver, feeling disgusted. I don’t want this. I don’t. He mistakes the shiver for something different, something more. He runs his hands over my body, getting turned on. I lay my head on his pillow, and sit there waiting.
He kisses my neck and then starts sucking on it, while positioning himself over me. He pushes inside me and I feel nothing. No pleasure comes out of it. He throws his head back and moans, obviously enjoying my undiscovered discomfort. He tucks his head into my collar bone, and jerks in and out of me.
I hear voices in my head, moaning. They’re laughing; they’re making fun of me. I close my eyes tightly, and try to concentrate on what is being done to my body. I groan at the discomfort, and he moans thinking I enjoy it. I hate it. It makes me sick.
He pulls out, and lays himself down next to me, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Once his breathing is controlled, he sits up and grabs a tray on the bedside table. On it is a small bag of cocaine, a razor blade, and a few little blue pills. He takes the razor and separates some of the cocaine into two different lines. He bends down, covers one nostril, and takes a long and strong snort following the line up the tray. He shivers, and shakes his head, twitching slightly.
He hands me the tray as soon as he’s done, and I quickly snort my way up the neat organized line. I feel my body react to it, and close my eyes, letting the drug slip through my veins. I get off the bed, and put the small tray back on the table. I find my clothes lying on the floor, and pull them on. He looks at me, and gives me a questioning look as if to say, ‘You’re leaving already?’
I smile at him, and nod my head replying to his unanswered question. He takes four of the little blue pills off the tray, and gets up with me, sliding on a pair of boxers. He walks into the kitchen, and I follow him slowly. When I get in there, I see him grinding up the pills into powder. He separates them into two lines, and then looks at me nodding his head toward the soft blue.
I bend over, and snort up the blue powder, loving the way it makes my body shake. He chuckles a bit, and slaps my ass as I turn to leave. I shut the front door as I hear him snort his line. I walk down the drive way, and follow the sidewalk. I hear the leaves whistle against the concrete.
I stop as I feel something swirl around me. I shake, feeling the whirls of tendrils on my skin. I keep walking, and ignore it. I hear a child’s scream. I hear a women’s cry. I hear my brother’s laugh. I smell propane and fire. I see people walking passing each other in front of me, all around me. I feel a gun to my head. I feel fire burn up my legs; the smell of propane getting stronger.
I stop walking. I fall to the ground and throw my hands over my ears, rocking myself back and forth. “Stop.” I whisper to the wind. “Stop.” I say to nothing. “STOP!” I cry to the world. My head spins. The wind stops. I smell fresh air. I hear the leaves twirl in the wind. I look up, and see all the people gone.
I get up, and continue following the sidewalk. I pretend nothing happened, I pretend I'm normal, I pretend like everything is alright inside my head.
YOU ARE READING
She Doesn't Care . (Being Edited)
General FictionFollow the story of a girl named McKenzie during her high school experience, re-told years later, when she’s asked to explain her adolescence. McKenzie wasn’t such an ‘average’ teenager, even in her own generations’ eyes. She was the type of gi...
