Keir Brenton's best friend Nick does drugs most of the time, and for him, that's just the norm. However, one day Nick has an accidental drug overdose, leading to his untimely death. Because he had left no suicide note, Keir knew that his best friend...
!:Note!: Remember what I said about how I have the attention span of a peanut? No? Well thats okay, cause here is a new story! Yay! This one I'm actually really eager to write. Its been in my long, long, long list of stories to be written. So here, for you. Enjoy~ Btw, this is Keir. Yw ;)
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Ever wondered what its like to die from a drug overdose? No? Yeah well, don't be surprised because you aren't the only one.
Sure, I could smoke weed. Or shoot heroine straight to my veins. But why would I do that, when there are still so many reasonable things in this world to look forward to? Somehow, its almost like I'm the unreasonable person in this equation.
Now, I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with smoking weed. Just like there is nothing wrong with those 'men' out there, who only get their fill from watching weeb tentacle porn. That's fine, totally cool by me man. But the thing is, when you're smoking weed so much, to the point where everything becomes funny, its not exactly cool anymore.
A video of a guy falling down the stairs? Funny. A relatable meme referring to a topic that is considered trendy? Fine, alright.
Swallowing an entire fucking bottle of pain killers? What. The. Fuck.
Now, I'm gonna be honest, I wasn't the idiot who decided to do this. And this person that I'm referring to actually died. On top of that, he was my best friend.
And, I know what you're thinking. "Keir, aren't you sad?"
Yes, I was sad. About a week ago when it first happened. Now, not so much.
And again, I know what you're thinking. "Keir, you're an asshole."
And yes. Yes I am.
However, there is a reason that I'm no longer worrying about my best friend Nick's death. Because number one, I know that he didn't kill himself intentionally. Others might argue, because basically everyone knows, that's Nick's home life was shit. Including me. Which is just one of the reasons why I have an inflatable mattress sitting in my closet. The other reason...no one cares anyway right? Best not open spoiled milk, you know what I'm saying?
And number two, over the past week, I have been constantly researching Satanism, and visiting my local book store for rituals that Satanists have used, to literally transport themselves into hell.
You're probably asking, "Keir, why the fuck are you purposefully trying to get inside of hell? And how the fuck is Satanism relevant to anything that you've been talking about for the past 5 minutes?"
Well, here is your answer. My best friend supposedly committed suicide, correct? I know that he didn't really, but who cares. On top of that, he was already smoking weed, and doing god knows what else, in that really creepy alleyway on Thomas Street. So either way, Nick was going to hell.
